I had told one woman I was proud of her. That was love speaking, and I had no intention of ever saying it again. But I understood and appreciated how much I sometimes put on those I took into my bed. I will push until you break. That is simply who I am.
Pixie didn't break. I admired her for it, and I was challenged by it. It made me hurt her more than I would otherwise have done.
She was panting into the pillow, there was a big silent tear on her cheek. I unlocked the steel cuffs behind her back, and her first instinctive reaction was to draw a protective hand down and cup it between her open legs. I didn't feel guilty or anything silly like that. I was impressed with her. I planted a very light kiss on the point of her shoulder. I spoke very quietly to soothe her.
"Well done, Pix. Good girl."
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