Rough or brutal weren't words to describe your boyfriend, Thoma. Hell, they probably didn't even exist in his vocabulary. You, on the other hand, loved to see him lay under you, all pretty, while you took all your worries out on him.

Here you were once more, applying oil to the little wounds inflicted by the tight ropes that were previously tied around his wrists.

He remained silent as you did your work, smiling softly while admiring you.

"Thank you," he muttered, his voice sleepy.