The Banker

by Penelope Sky

  He nodded to my left shoulder. “Tell me how that happened.”

  I knew he was asking about the gunshot wound. It was still a fairly recent injury, and it would leave a noticeable scar forever. I was surprised he hadn’t asked about it until now. He probably didn’t bed too many women with gunshot wounds. “I had an accident a long time ago.”

  “An accident?” he asked incredulously. “You shot yourself?”

  So he knew it was a gunshot wound. Making up something wouldn’t work. “I don’t want to talk about it, Cato.” I turned back to my plate and finished the rest of it.

  He kept his gaze on me, like that answer wasn’t good enough. “Why not?”

  “You want to tell me something deeply personal about yourself?” I countered.

  “Sure. What do you want to know?”

  I rolled my eyes, knowing this was a false challenge. “Just drop it.”

  “You really can’t tell me?” He cocked his head slightly. “Because if someone did that to you…I could even the score.”

  My eyes lifted to meet his gaze.

  He stood by his statement by continuing his deep and hard look.

  I pondered asking Cato for help. I wondered if he would fix all my problems. But I also wondered if he would be so livid I’d used him that he might kill me instead. “My problems aren’t your problems.”

  “As long as you’re fucking me, they are. If someone is giving you a hard time, I can give them a harder time.”

  I’d never needed a man to protect me, but the idea of having a strong man like Cato in my life sounded like the nicest thing in the world. Cato couldn’t be challenged. He was too powerful. Even Bones and Crow wouldn’t mess with him. I could make Damien pay for threatening to rape me all the time. I could save my father and put a gun in his hand so he could kill his jailers. “It’s getting late, Cato. You should go.” I grabbed the dirty dishes and carried them to the sink.

  “The only place I’m going is to bed.” He dropped the subject after I dismissed it, and he left the dining table. His heavy footfalls sounded behind me, tapping against the hardwood floor as he headed to the stairs on the other side of the house.

  I stared down into the sink—unsure what move to make next.

  Missionary seemed to be his favorite position because that’s how he usually wanted to fuck me. He preferred having my legs pinned back so he could drive himself as deep as my body would allow him. He liked to stare at my tits as he shook them, liked to kiss me when he ground his body against my clit.

  I’d never had a man fuck me with such enthusiasm before. It was as if this man weren’t getting ass on a nightly basis, as if he couldn’t pick up a random woman in a bar and nail her within the hour. He screwed me like I was the only woman he wanted in the entire world, the only place he wanted to stuff his cock all night.

  “Cato.” My hand started on his cheek and then slid into his hair. I felt the sweaty strands and fisted them as he kept pounding me good and hard.

  He kissed me softly as he continued to give me his cock deep, his full lips lavishing me with purposeful embraces that never faltered. He sucked my bottom lip then gave me his tongue, his heavy breath coming out of his nose.

  I knew he was a fucker, but I didn’t know he was such a lover.

  “Cato.” Like our conversation over dinner had never happened, I worshiped this man by calling out his name as I rode another climax. I didn’t want to fuck him in the beginning because he was such an asshole, but now I would pay good money to have him fuck me like this once a week. He was so good it was indescribable. It made me want to betray him even less because I didn’t want this to end.

  “This pussy…” He slowed his thrusts and made them deep and hard as he finished. His cock thickened noticeably inside me before he released. With a loud grunt and a small spasm down his back, he filled my slit with another round of come.

  He slowly pulled out of me to make sure he didn’t lose a single drop. Then he lay beside me in bed, the late hour casting the bedroom into complete darkness. With one hand behind his head, he stared at the ceiling as he caught his breath.

  I closed my eyes, so tired and satisfied I could drift to sleep right away.

  “Baby?”

  I faced the other way, my ass to him. “Hmm?” I could feel the come seeping from between my legs.

  “I’ve got to get up early tomorrow.”

  “You know where the front door is. You barged in hours ago.” I kept my eyes closed. I was too tired to even turn over and look at him.

  “Alright. Then I’ll stay.”

  “Wait, what? I thought you were leaving.”

  “No. Just wanted to make sure you didn’t care about me waking you up early.”

  “Well, I do care. So, don’t.”

  His grin was audible in his voice. “I like sex first thing in the morning.”

  “And I like sleep first thing in the morning. Don’t wake me up.”

  “I’ll try not to. But the orgasm might.”

  I shoved my leg behind me and kicked him.

  He chuckled like it didn’t bother him at all. “Good night, baby.”

  “Good night, asshole.”

  He made good on his word the following morning. I was on my stomach, so he moved on top of me and fucked me in the prone position. The second his large cock was deep inside me, I was wide awake.

  But I didn’t complain.

  He fucked me hard and fast because he didn’t have all the time in the world. It was a quickie on overtime. He ground me into the sheets and made me come before he released inside me. “Have a good day.” He pulled out of me and hopped in the shower.

  God, he was such an asshole. He fucked me when I was dead asleep and then used my shower when he was finished. Total prick.

  By the time he got out of the shower, I was wide awake and unable to go back to sleep—even though it was six in the morning. I was never awake before half past seven. I put on a pot of coffee and sat in the living room in my robe.

  He came downstairs minutes later, dressed in the same clothes he wore yesterday but still looking like a million bucks. “Came to see me off?”

  All I gave him was a glare.

  He grinned, as if my anger didn’t bother him in the least. “I’ll be back tonight. Don’t expect me to knock.” He headed to the door.

  I jumped up and followed him. “That’s not how this works. You don’t just come by whenever you want.”

  “What? Do you have plans?”

  “No, but—”

  “Then I’ll see you later.” He leaned down and kissed me on the corner of my mouth.

  “Cato, you don’t own me the way you own everyone else.”

  He turned back around, his playfulness gone and his intensity bright. “That’s where you’re wrong, baby. I do own you. I’ve owned you since the moment you whispered my name and came around my dick. I’ve owned you since the moment I came inside you. You’re my lady, and I come and go as I please.” He held my gaze and dared me to defy him.

  I was so pissed I couldn’t think. So I slapped him hard across the face.

  He jerked with the hit, and instead of displaying a fiery glare, he turned back to me like he’d never wanted me more. He calmly pulled his phone out of his pocket and made a call, his eyes glued to mine.

  I had no idea what was going on.

  “Push my meeting back to one.” He hung up and shoved the phone back into his pocket.

  I knew something was about to go down. I was actually a little afraid.

  He took a step closer to me and pulled his shirt over his head.

  I stepped back.

  He yanked his belt out of his jeans and slid it through his hands.

  What the hell was he going to do?

  He suddenly grabbed me by the back of the neck and pushed me to the couch.

  My natural instinct was to fight—but that didn’t get me anywhere.

  He forced me onto my stomach and tied my hands together at the small of my
back with the belt.

  “Cato, get off me.” I threw my hips up to buck him off.

  “No.” He dropped his pants and boxers then yanked my robe up.

  “I mean it.”

  “As do I.” His heavy body moved on top of mine, and he shoved himself inside me violently, getting his girth within me in one swift move. He grabbed my hair and yanked me back, forcing me to curve my spine and look up at the ceiling.

  Then he fucked me so hard.

  My body shifted with the movement, but I couldn’t rest my neck because of the way he’d positioned me. He fucked me like I was a whore he’d paid for. Treated me like I was just pussy for cash.

  And it felt so good.

  “I. Own. You.” He pounded me so hard that my clit ached against the cushions. “Say it.”

  As much as I enjoyed being fucked like this, I refused. “No one owns me.”

  His dick was so thick inside me, about to burst because he hated and loved my defiance. With the endurance of an athlete, he kept going. He kept fucking me like he wouldn’t stop until he got what he wanted.

  I felt the climax begin. I didn’t want to give in to the pleasure. That only made him the winner. But it was impossible to fight. I could feel it, could anticipate how good it would feel.

  Then he stopped. “Say it.”

  That was when I realized what he was doing. This was his torture. I would be in this state forever until he allowed me to release—and only with my obedience.

  I kept my mouth shut.

  He started up again, grinding me hard into the cushions with his massive dick. “I’ve got all day, baby.”

  I bit my lip and tried to think of a solution, but my mind was so focused on that big dick inside me pragmatism was impossible. Then I felt it again, the burning desire between my legs. He’d just made me come an hour ago, but it seemed like it’d been an eternity.

  He stopped before I could release, removing his dick altogether. Despite how hard he was working, he wasn’t out of breath. “We both know how this ends.” He pushed his dick inside me again and rested his lips near my ear. “Say it.”

  “No…” I yanked against the belt around my wrists.

  His body smacked hard against my ass as he drilled into me. He gave me everything he had, stimulated my body everywhere.

  I felt it again.

  He stopped.

  I screamed in protest. “You’re such a fucking asshole. I hate you. I fucking hate you—”

  He fucked me again, just as hard as all the previous times. “And you belong to this asshole. Say it.”

  I didn’t want to give in. But I didn’t see any other way out. He was a master at controlling his climaxes. Most men couldn’t keep their reflexes in check, but he was a professional at it. “Please…”

  He chuckled against my ear. “Begging will get you nowhere. Now, say it.”

  When he pushed me toward a climax again, I tried to pretend I didn’t feel anything. I kept my body relaxed and my breathing the same.

  But he somehow knew. He pulled his dick out.

  Fuck, I really couldn’t win.

  He gripped my neck and breathed into my ear, his wet dick pressed between my ass cheeks. “Baby.” He grabbed my hair and forced me to look at him, victory in his eyes even though I hadn’t conceded yet.

  I didn’t want a man to ever own me. My mission was to manipulate him to get what I wanted. Giving him what he wanted accomplished that, but I somehow felt like I was signing my soul over to the devil.

  Cato Marino was the devil.

  He pushed his dick back inside me and slowly started to move, keeping his eyes on me. “Say it.”

  I turned my face away so I wouldn’t have to look at him.

  He yanked me back, his eyes full of gloating.

  “You own me…”

  He inhaled a deep breath, like those words were beautiful to his ears. He pressed his mouth to mine and gave me a soft kiss before he righted himself on top of me. Then he pounded into me hard, nailing me so good I would hit a climax in seconds. “Say it again.”

  I felt the climax hit—and it was so good that it was worth all the self-loathing. “You own me, Cato. You fucking own me.”

  15

  Cato

  I sat in the chair facing the desk with my legs crossed. The Beck Brothers were using my money to drill for oil in the east, and once rumors circulated that their venture was going south, I’d decided to take a visit.

  Judging by the sweat on Connor’s brow, he thought he’d been clever enough to hide it from me.

  No one hid shit from me. “You know why I’m here. You know what’s going to happen. So choose your words carefully—and don’t waste my time. I already took the afternoon off to fly here.” My men had hit the property hard, taking their positions like they were ready to go to war. Whenever I traveled anywhere, I had the kind of security a president envied.

  Connor couldn’t touch me. He drummed his fingers against the desk as he stalled, trying to think of the right choice of words.

  If he made the wrong move, I would kill him—right then and there. His brother would be next.

  “We anticipated a lot more oil.”

  Good. He wasn’t gonna waste my time feeding me bullshit. “That’s unfortunate. What are you going to do now?”

  He kept drumming his fingers. “We have a few leads in the area. About fifty miles north.”

  “And how credible is this lead?” I’d worn my three-piece black suit, and I missed my jeans and t-shirt. I missed doing work from the house because I could wear whatever I wanted—or nothing at all.

  “Credible. But we won’t know until we look.”

  “And when will that be?”

  “Next week.”

  I rose to my feet and slipped my hands into my pockets as I approached his desk. “We both know I don’t really care if you find oil or not. I only care about the five hundred million I loaned to you—with interest.”

  Connor lowered his gaze, like a dog that had just chewed through my favorite pair of shoes.

  “You know what will happen if that doesn’t come to pass.” I continued to stare at him, my eyes burning through his cheek. “You know what will happen not just to you and your brother, but your lovely wife Rose and your twin daughters.”

  His eyes moved back to mine, the horror in his gaze. “My family—”

  “Everything is collateral when you borrow from Cato Marino. I suggest you figure it out. Otherwise, I will butcher every member of your family.” I rapped the backs of my knuckles against his desk before I turned around. “Figure out how you’re going to get my money, Connor. Or start picking out coffins.”

  When my plane landed, I got into the back seat of my car and was taken away from the airport. After the long day I’d had, there was only one place I wanted to go.

  Siena.

  We’d established a monogamous fling that was supposed to mean nothing, but my grip on her seemed to tighten. She said I didn’t own her like I owned everything else, and that was when I realized how much I hated that fact.

  I did want to own her.

  Ever since the beginning, her uniqueness caught my attention. Every time she pushed me away, I pulled tighter. My attraction turned to obsession. My obsession turned to possessiveness. Maybe this arrangement would burn out and my interest would die—but I’d never been this invested in a single woman in my life.

  Maybe that meant something.

  Bates called me. “What happened?”

  “Connor was straight with me. Told me they’d found a promising spot for drilling. I’ll get an update in a few weeks.”

  “You think he’ll make it happen? They’ve burned through half our money.”

  I rested my elbow on the armrest while my hand kept the phone against my ear. I looked out the window and watched the sun disappear over the horizon. It was past eight in the evening, and nighttime had officially arrived. “I don’t know. But I told him what would happen if he didn’t.”

&nbs
p; “Mention Rose and the girls?”

  “Of course.” The second you took the money, you risked everyone you knew and loved. If the Marinos didn’t get their money, all hell would break loose. No one was immune to those rules. That was how we kept our clients in line. It was rare when someone took a risk they couldn’t gamble—and they always died in the same way. “I’ll send a coffin brochure just to get the message across.”

  Bates turned quiet. Instead of hanging up, he let the silence linger. That meant he had more to say, but he didn’t know how to broach the subject.

  “What is it?”

  “Siena. Giovanni told me you slept over the other night.”

  I kept tabs on people. I didn’t appreciate when people kept tabs on me, especially my brother. “Where I stick my dick is none of your concern. Mind your own fucking business, or I’ll burn my cigar on your cheek.”

  Bates didn’t hesitate at the threat. “Did you tell her you know who she is?”

  I didn’t see the point. She clearly had no interest in her family’s blood money. “Trust me, Bates. She wants nothing to do with that lifestyle. She despises money and power. She’s happy living in a little shack. She doesn’t want anything from me. She doesn’t even like me most of the time…”

  “Then why is she still fucking you?”

  I grinned. “Because I know how to fuck.” I thought about the way I’d left her that morning, powerless underneath me while I forced her to surrender. Watching a stubborn woman give in was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen.

  “Has she ever asked you about what we do?”

  “Not once.”

  “Has she ever asked for anything too personal?”

  “No, Bates. In fact, she’s told me how much she pities me. She knows I have all the money in the world, but she sees how bored and empty I am.” I’d never admitted it to her face, but the second she said those words, I knew they were true. I knew she understood me in a way no one else did. When we met, I wasn’t looking for a connection. But I inevitably found one. Maybe that was why I wanted her so much—because she really knew me.