“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.
Tomorrow Kate would tell her all about Banner, what they’d done, and ask how she was going to get through this while keeping her heart intact. Being mastered was the last thing she thought she wanted, but she’d be damned if she hadn’t called a man Master tonight. A mistake she could never repeat.
***
The phone rang four times before Janine picked up, sounding harried. “What’s wrong, Kate?”
She bit her lip. “Sorry. It’s not an emergency or anything.” Although, admittedly, she’d called five times in the last two hours without leaving a message. That must’ve been some kind of record for them. She could see why Janine might be worried.
Her friend’s sigh echoed in the phone. “It’s my day off. I was trying to sleep in.”
“Sorry!”
“It’s okay. I’m up now.” She chuckled. “I can tell it’s important. You’re not usually so obnoxious. What happened?”
This should probably be handled delicately. Banner was a good friend of Chris’s, so she should be careful how she talked about him to her best friend, especially after swearing up and down to herself she wouldn’t go too far the first time.
“I slept with Banner,” she blurted.
Crap. Not so smooth.
Janine gasped. “Oh my god!” A squeal followed. “That’s awesome!”
“Noooo. No, no, no.” She didn’t need a cheering squad. What she needed was a slushy to the face and a wake-up call. “Not awesome. He’s a Master. I don’t want a Master. Did you forget that?”
Janine made a dismissive sound. “None of that matters. There are other things that are more important.”
“None of that matters?” She paced the length of her kitchen. “Of course it matters! He wants a slave. I’m not slave material. You know that.”
Silence.
“Right?”
“Well,” her friend hedged. “Not in the traditional sense, but you have to keep an open mind. You haven’t tried much. Who knows what you’ll end up liking?”
“I do. And it’s not being a slave.” Holding the phone with her shoulder, she started making a cup of coffee. She’d need about a dozen of them to get through the day.
Janine chuckled. “He must want to spank you so bad.”
“What?”
“You’re so stubborn! What does it matter what you call yourself? Do you like him? Did you like having sex with him?”
“Um.” Fuck yeah seemed too eager a response. “I guess.”
“You guess?”
“It was intense.” She grabbed the cream from the fridge and poured it in her mug, careful not to drop her phone in with it.
“Just don’t overthink it so much. Let what happens, happen.”
“Normally, I appreciate your hippy go-with-the-flow advice, but right now I need a reality check. We weren’t supposed to go that far. I think I made a mistake.”
“It’s only a mistake if you treat it that way. Brush it off and go back to where you’re comfortable.”
She considered that for a moment. It made sense. If Banner didn’t know it was a mistake to her, they could just start over, being more careful now. Should she tell Janine she’d called him Master?
No. She felt stupid enough as it was.
So where was she comfortable? She let her mind drift back to last night. In his arms after having sex, feeling sated and warm and fuzzy, eating ice cream and laughing at the movie. That was the most comfortable and satisfied she’d felt in a long time.
He wants a slave.
How many times would she have to remind herself of that in the next few weeks of training? Maybe she should text him to find out if he’s okay. He hadn’t seemed regretful last night, and he was the one who’d banged her until she bunched the sheets in her fists and screamed, but guys had feelings too.