Chapter Text
Clyde Logan's a gentleman, through and through. Most southern boys are, being that they're raised sweeter than iced tea. But Clyde's a different type. He's so damn thoughtful. His big shaggy bear arms always hold ya so close, your ass sittin' tight between his thighs while you catch your breath.
Clyde'll push ya to your breakin' point, but the moment he's done cummin', his attentions are all on takin' good care a'ya. Clyde loves to pet your hair and rub your shoulders, he whispers sweet praise in your ear and calls ya his angel. Swears up'n'down yer the luckiest thing to ever happen to 'em.
Clyde's great at takin' care a'ya. Not only after - always. But especially after.
Tonight's no different. Clyde's gotcha in the tub, hot water runnin' from the tap and he's even got that bubbly shit ya' like frothing under the gurglin' spout. Clyde's behind ya', cock half-hard and still throbbin' from the last round. Can feel the way it bobs against your ass. His hand's working your shoulder blades, one atta time, 'course.
"Ain't gotta clue…" He mumbles.
"Notta damn one." His lips're at your ear.
"Wha's that, darlin'?" You coo, arms wrappin' 'round his neck.
"No clue how I's got so lucky." His hand sweeps the swell of your breast, comin' 'round to wrap 'round your middle an' pull ya' closer.
"This again." You chuckle.
"Mhm," His nose nozzles into your hair. "Damn Logan curse–"
"Shush, ya' ain't cursed, Clyde." You shake your head.
"Don't I know it. Wouldn't have ya' if I was."
He cuddles ya' close, presses a firm kiss to your neck.
"Love ya, darlin'."