I examine her throat for any marks while I try to collect myself. I was careful not to leave anything behind, and it looks like my caution paid off because, as far as I can tell, there aren’t any marks or giveaways. Good thing too, because I don’t know what would happen if Coach Dunaway noticed an obviously hand-shaped mark on his daughter’s throat the next time he saw her.

But I don’t think I can say the same for her ass. It’s bright red and physically hot to the touch when I drag my fingers gently across the raised handprint I left there. She hisses and squirms beneath me.

“How do you feel?” I ask softly, and she rolls over slightly to look me in the eye.

“I’m amazing. I have to admit, I’ve never been brave enough to ask a guy to do any of that stuff during sex before, even though I wanted it,” she murmurs.

A flash of possessiveness surges in my stomach at the thought of her being with any other man than me. But it passes quickly, cooled by the fact that she feels comfortable enough with me—and only me—to be so open, sexually and otherwise.

I lean down to kiss her, deep and hungry. “You can ask me for anything you want. Anything at all,” I murmur against her lips, and she shivers beneath me in response as we break apart. “Where’s your bathroom?”

Hannah lazily lifts a finger to point in the general direction, so I climb off the bed and make my way across the dark room to a door that leads to the bathroom. I flip the light switch on, wincing and blinking against the sudden brightness until my eyes adjust, then step over to the toilet to peel off the condom and get rid of it.

And just like I was hoping to find, there’s a bathtub in here. Without asking, I kneel beside the tub and use the plug to block the drain, then turn on the water and use the back of my hands to test the temperature until it’s perfect. Just hot enough to ease Hannah’s soreness but not so hot that it’s going to be too much. I walk back into the bedroom while I’m waiting for the tub to fill, and Hannah pushes herself up onto her elbows and eyes me curiously as I enter.

“What are you doing?” she asks when I stop in front of her, but I don’t give her an answer.

I just scoop her up off the bed into my arms and hold her against my chest and carry her into the bathroom like the precious cargo that she is. There isn’t anywhere else to put her, so I set her gently down on the bathroom counter and she hisses at the coldness of the surface against her still-stinging ass.