Uncertain how to proceed, whether he should apologize, beat himself up for being so rough with something so precious, or praise this stunning creature who had bared her soul to him, Dragon pulled out of her slowly. Regretfully. Now fully aware of why Steel felt like he wanted to spend his time permanently inside the woman he was obsessed with.
Untangling his fingers from Cassandra’s hair, she moaned slightly as she straightened, and he felt her tense as she obviously floated down from her own high. Was realization coming back for her as well? Was she regretting what they’d done? Was she hurting? Did she wish she’d asked him to be gentler instead of giving the monster inside of him permission to come roaring out?
“If you apologize to me, I won't let you do that again.” Cassandra’s voice was soft, and yet there was a firmness to it. No hint of regret that he could detect, and when he sniffed the air, he couldn’t scent anything other than the mingled scents of their joint arousal.
“That was really what you wanted?” he said, somewhat in awe as he reached for the knife he always carried with him. A single slice cut through the zip ties, and he let them fall to the ground at their feet as he scooped Cassandra into his arms, balancing her in one, while he began to gently massage her hands to restore blood flow.
“Did you think I'd lied? That I didn't know my own body and what it likes?”
Since she sounded insulted by the notion, Dragon rushed to reassure her. “No, not at all. I just … I've spent the last several months achingly hard every time I think about you, how beautiful you are, how strong and brave. How you managed to keep the essence of who you are intact, even though you kept receiving blow after blow. I kept reminding myself that I could never be good enough for you, that I wouldn't be able to give you the soft and sweet you deserved. Last night, when I walked away from your room and smelled what you were doing in the shower, I wanted so badly to go to you. But I thought I would take you like this, and it would be the opposite of what you wanted, needed.”
“Then maybe you should have asked.”
Those simple words, spoken so matter-of-factly, surprised a chuckle out of him. “Maybe I should have. You really liked this?”
“Did I come?”
“You did.”
“Then I liked it.”
“I made you bleed,” he said, nodding at her wrists where he was still massaging her hands.
“Yep,” she agreed.
“And I will have left bruises on your perfect skin.”
“I know.” Now she sounded pleased as punch.
“You're a wild one beneath all the sunshine, aren't you, little rabbit?”
Doubt crept into her expression, and he felt her deflate a little, curl in on herself. “Is that okay?”
That she had any doubt at all that he was obsessed with every single part of her, even the parts she was uncertain about frustrated him. Growling, he abandoned his work on her hands and instead spun them slightly so her back was back up againstthe tree. Then he crushed his mouth to hers and poured every single drop of what he felt for her into it.
At least he hoped he did.
Because Cassandra wasn't the only one with doubts.
“I told you what would happen if I ever heard you talk badly about yourself again,” he reminded her. “You said it yourself, little rabbit. There is a difference between your mom being gang raped, and you choosing to like rough sex. They aren't the same. You aren't doing anything wrong by taking what you need.”
In the dark, he could still see her searching his expression, searching for the truth. She must have found it because she gave a small nod and relaxed against him.
Good.
He’d earned another piece of her trust. Now it was time for him to show her that trust was well deserved. That he wouldn't do anything to jeopardize it.
“We didn't use protection,” he reminded her as he set her down on her feet.
“I’m on birth control, and I'm clean,” she assured him.
Surprised by his disappointment that he likely hadn't impregnated her, he knew it wasn't the right time, yet the thought of Cassandra’s belly swollen with their child had him realizing it was absolutely something he wanted. “I'm clean too,” he promised as he scooped up her ruined panties and the zip ties and stuck both in his pocket, because it turned out that when he let himself, he was a bit of a sentimentalist. Then he grabbed her leggings and carefully guided her legs through them, pulling them up for her. The coat he’d brought with him went on next, and then he added the scarf, mittens, and beanie.
“What?” he asked when he found her watching him with a soft expression as he tugged the beanie down to cover as much of her ears as possible.
“You never let anyone see this gentler side of you. Dragon the caretaker, I like it.”
Unsure how to respond, he said nothing, just scooped her up again, and began to walk with her back to the house. There was no way the others wouldn't know what they’d been up to out there. They both smelled of sex, although he had to remind himself nobody else could scent things the same way he did.
