Banner crooned to her, stroking her skin, caressing her breasts, teasing her nipples into points.
“Fuck, you’re tight,” he hissed when he bottomed out just as he’d gotten all the way in.
“I’m sorry, Sir.” She whimpered, so full she was afraid to move.
Banner groaned, moving slowly until she loosened up. “Don’t be sorry.” He rolled his hips and thrust in harder, the angle making him hit her G-spot.
She moaned, long and lusty, and she couldn’t make herself care. Again he did it, and again.
With her vision blurred, she tried to stay in control, but his cock stole her wits. Her mouth went slack and her body obeyed his. Hands gripped her thighs, tilting her toward him so he could take what he wanted. The pressure built inside, impossible to escape. She panted, trying to wait, trying to stop herself.
Banner buried his face in her hair. “You’re going to come for me, aren’t you?” He moaned in her ear, sending shivers streaking through her. “I can feel every ripple. You’re trying so hard to be a good girl.”
“Please, Sir, I’m trying to be good. But I need to come now. I have to come,” she pled, writhing beneath him.
“Wait. Shhh. You can wait, can’t you?” His gruff voice was almost her undoing. “Waiting makes it better.”
Kate panted, trying to calm herself down, but even the sound of their harsh breathing was turning her on. Everything inside her clenched. He propped himself up on his arms and looked down at her, the expression she saw there wild and possessive. His pelvis rubbed her sensitive flesh, and he wrapped a hand gently around her throat.
That hand, just resting there, almost tipped her over the edge.
“Please, Banner, I can’t stop.” The high-pitched wail didn’t even sound like her.
Above her, he froze, gritting his teeth. “Okay, okay. You can come.”
Kate’s body arched upward, her eyes rolled back, and her jaw locked. Banner thrust hard, his dick swelling inside her, demanding a response. She cried out. Her pussy clamped down on his brutally hard cock as he battered into her.
“That’s right. Scream for me, Kate.” He let go of her throat and reached between them, then pinched viciously at one of her nipples.
The pain shot straight to her core, forcing her orgasm to persevere. She writhed beneath him, helpless.
“Please, I’m sorry,” she babbled. “I can’t stop!”
“It’s okay, baby. You come on my cock, and I’ll forgive you for anything.” He pulled out of her unexpectedly.
“No, no. Please.”
“Please, what?”
“Please, I need you!”
He chuckled and grabbed her, flipping her onto her belly before ramming his cock deep inside her again.
When she tried to scrabble away, Banner grabbed onto her thighs and fucked her harder, hitting her G-spot and making her bawl. Weak, she stilled, accepting that now she was a thing made for pleasure. She sobbed into the mattress, crumpling the sheets in her fists, tired from the forced orgasms but unable to stop coming. The thrust of his hips faltered, he swore, his cock pulsing inside of her, coming, triggering another orgasm for her. He collapsed on top of her and bit her shoulder. The pain melted into pleasure and a strong feeling of being used.
Owned.
Banner pulled out and gathered her to him, moving her to a more comfortable spot on the bed. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tight. His lips brushed over her brow and eyelids.
“You okay?”
She blinked at him, unable to process more than the dark depths of his eyes. Deep brown, now gentle, but usually so imposing. He kissed her lips, and she pressed against him, overwhelmed and not sure she remembered how to speak. They stayed wound together for a long time, their gazes locked, his fingers drawing shivery designs on her back. She wriggled against him from time to time, and his expression would shift from content to amused, and back again.
Despite feeling sore and sated in all the right ways, a flurry of emotion ambushed her. As soon as Banner reluctantly left to clean up, she buried her face in one of the pillows. She refused to cry, though tears pricked her eyes. That had just been the best sex of her life. Why on earth did she feel like crying?
“Are you sure you’re okay?” He sounded as if he were on the other side of the room.
She nodded but kept her face hidden. If he thought she was freaking out, he’d never agree to train her. And that was the last thing she wanted.
“You’re shaking.”
Was she? Drawing a deep breath, she tried to calm her nerves. The whole thing was overwhelming. She had no idea sex could be like that.
Banner wasn’t hers—she knew that—but the bond, the connection they’d just shared was so intense. Though temporary, it felt real.
But it wasn’t real. And that hurt.
And now, after having been orgasmed nearly to death, she was lying naked in a man’s bed—not a boyfriend or even a fuck buddy. Just a random guy she barely knew.
Things weren’t supposed to have gone this far. God, was she really a slut?
No. She couldn’t let herself get caught up in those thoughts. Women had casual sex all the time, right? And her sexuality was her own—sluttiness was a patriarchal construct. There was no shame in being a sexual being.
She wriggled a bit on her stomach to get more comfortable and realized even her limbs ached. There was nothing casual about this casual sex.
Banner moved in beside her. The bed dipped, then a blanket fell around the lower half of her body.
Gently, he stroked her exposed back. “I’m sorry. Maybe I went too far.”
Just his hand, skimming lightly across her skin, grounded her. She exhaled a shaky breath, and the tension drained from her body. A numb haze took over, and she let it. Processing everything right now was making her brain hurt. His hand drifted up, and he petted her hair. Each time his fingers ran across her scalp, she melted further into the mattress.
“Can I see that beautiful face now?” he asked.
His voice interrupted the silence, making her jump. Had she almost been asleep? Shit. She should go home. This experience was weird, and she needed some space.
With a groan, she turned over.
Banner was there, leaning over her, wearing a small smile. “There you are.”
“I should go.” Was that her raspy voice? Just how loudly had he made her scream?
His brow furrowed. “Absolutely not.”
Her eyes finally focused. Why did she feel sweaty, flushed, and as if she’d just run a marathon, yet he looked as though he’d just stepped out of an ad for shaving cream? And he was wearing a shirt and jeans. Didn’t he know it was a crime to hide that chest?
“I bet you couldn’t even stand up right now,” he challenged.
“I’m fine.”
“No.” He frowned.
Ignoring him, she went to sit up. A groan escaped her when her ass rubbed against the sheet.
“Let me get you a drink,” he said, helping her lean against the headboard. “Then stay and watch the rest of the movie with me. After that, if you still want to leave, at least I won’t be worried.”
“The rest of the movie?” she said with a snort. “As if I saw any of it at all!”
He chuckled. “We’ll start it over.”
“I don’t need you to take care of me.” It sounded like a warning, even to her. Maybe it was. She’d taken care of herself for years now. Needing a man, smelling like desperation, crying into a pillow after sex . . . That wasn’t her. Even though she was sore all over, exhausted, and feeling a little dirty, she was still an independent woman.
Sighing, he tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear. “I know you don’t, Trouble. But you’re going to let me anyway.”
And for some reason, she did.
After he fed her, made her drink her weight in water, and snuggled her up to him for the duration of a movie, he reluctantly let her go. The drive home passed in a blur. She desperately needed to talk to Janine, but it was too late to call.