Anette looked at Dean that Friday night after the show closed. His black eye had turned into a green color, but that wasn't the important thing. The important thing was that he seemed happy in that moment, and that his face and upper body was free of new marks. He had wrestled without a shirt which meant Charlotte had been in a good mood for their days home.

"So where are we going?" He asked.
"There's a bar just behind the hotel," she answered.

He put his arm over her shoulders, and pulled her up against his side.

"Lead the way," he said.

40 minutes later they were in the middle of a game of pool while drinking their second beer each.

"That's how it's done!" He downed another ball. "You're losing, Anette."
"I can take a loss," she grinned. "I'm still the most pretty one between the two of us."
"You sure are," he laughed.

He downed another ball, grinned widely at her, and then downed the black ball.

"I win," he stood up tall.
"Double or nothing?" She asked.
"We didn't even bet on anything," he chuckled. "But sure, let's make it more interesting. If I win, I get a kiss."
"And if I win?" She asked.
"You get a kiss," he answered.
"Dean!" She laughed. "You're a dork!"
"Okay, how about I go down on you if you win?" He wiggled his eyebrows.
"Right!" She laughed. "Line them up."

He lined them up while she got them their third beer. The game continued, and she ended up victorious.

"You let me win. Admit it," she said.
"I might," he chuckled.
"Best out of three?" She asked.
"No, let's go back," he said.

They walked back to the hotel. Once inside the elevator, she looked at him.

"How are things at home?" She asked.
"Good, good. Charlotte's ecstatic about being moved to RAW, so she's been in a good mood," he answered.
"For how long?" She asked.
"Can we not do this today?" He looked at her beggingly. "I was having a really good time with you, and everything's okay as long as I give her what she wants."
"What's that supposed to mean?" She asked.

The elevator stopped, and the door opened on their floor. He hurried out of the elevator, jogging towards his room, but she was right behind him.

"Dean!" She grabbed his arm. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"As long as I keep her happy in bed, there's nothing going on," he said.
"But do you want to have sex with her?" She asked.
"It doesn't matter," he sighed. "Men always want sex."

He opened the door to his room, and she pushed her way inside with him.

"What the hell, Dean? No, that's a fucking, stupid myth! Does she force you? Does she rape you?" She yelled.
"Men can't get raped by women," he said.
"The fuck they can't!" She yelled louder. "It happens more than you know! Oh my fucking god, I'm gonna kill that bitch!"

He wrapped his arms around her, and held her tight. She could hardly move on her own, but he took charge and moved them over to the wall, placing her with her back up against it. He ran his nose up her neck, and took in the raspberry scent of her hair.

"You always smell so good," he said.
"Dean," she said. "We can't."
"You're always there. Like my own personal guardian angel. You always know what to do and say to make me happy. You make me feel good," he said.

He started leaving small kisses over the exposed skin of her neck.

"Dean, you gotta stop this," she said. "You got a girlfriend."
"That's the only reason I need to stop? Not because you don't want me?" He asked.
"Charlotte," she whispered.
"I knew it. You want me too," he smirked against her skin. "I believe you won our last game, so that means I'll be going down on you."
"You lost on purpose," she said.
"That I did," he confessed.
"Why?" She asked. "What do you want?"

He scraped his teeth over her skin, and she shivered and moaned. He moved his head out to stare her down. One hand was resting against the wall next to her head, the other hand was toying with her red hair.

"I wanna be in charge. I want you on your back on my bed. I wanna hear you moan, beg, cry and even scream. I want you to take everything I got to give. I wanna do to you what I never do to her," he said. "I want you!"
"Dean!" She whimpered. "Take me!"

He crashed his lips down on hers, dominating the kiss, biting her bottom lip. He pulled her away from the wall, tore her clothes off her, and pushed her down on the bed. He went down on his knees on the floor, grabbed her thighs, and pulled her to the edge of the bed. He buried his face between her legs, letting his tongue and lips move like crazy. He wanted her to fall apart fast and hard, and because of him.

"Dean! Oh my god, Dean! Please! Please, don't stop!" She begged.

He dug his nails into her thighs, wanting her to feel more of him. She moaned even louder, her voice cracking into a broken scream as she came. She arched her back, and he placed an arm over her stomach to keep her down on the bed. He was in charge, even of her orgasm. He let her ride it out, but he wasn't gonna let her move away from him until she was done cumming.

He sat back on his heels, and pulled his tee off. He got back up on his feet, kicked his shoes off, and quickly got out of his jeans, socks and briefs. He crawled up between her legs, growling louder the closer he came. She always referred to him as husky, and he was gonna be her mad dog tonight.

"Fucking delicious," he kissed her, and grabbed her ass. "Turn around. I want you on your hands and knees."

He sat back on his heels again, watching as she turned around and pushed herself up to stand on all four. He grabbed his dick, lined himself up by her entrance, and pushed forward fast. She cried out, and her upper body fell down on the bed. He grabbed her hair to yank her back up to stand. He moved his hands to her shoulders, holding on tightly as he started to pound into her.

He needed this. He needed to be in charge and dominate. She didn't seem to mind though. She moaned and cried, begged him to continue. He let go of her shoulders and moved back a bit. He held on to her hip with his left hand while his right hand moved in between her legs.

"Oh god!" She moaned even louder. "Fuck! Right there! Don't stop! Make me cum, Dean!"

That had been the plan all along, but he loved hearing her beg for it. Beg for him to do it. He kept his fast thrusts going while his fingers worked their magic on her clit. She fell apart again, another broken scream leaving her throat while she shook in pleasure.

As soon as she was done cumming, he pulled out of her. He flipped her over on her back, covered her body with his, and pushed into her again. This time he moved more slow, but his thrusts were hard and deep. He kissed her again, grabbing her thigh to move her leg up against him. She started whimpering by the deep thrusts. He kissed his way from her lips and up to her ear.

"Let go again," he rasped out. "I got you, angel. I got you. Let go for me."

She arched up against him and cried out a third time. Her broken scream was the most beautiful thing he had ever heard. Charlotte didn't sound like that. He wasn't even sure how she sounded anymore. He went into his own little world when they had sex. Mostly it was him on his back while she rode him and took what she wanted from him. He didn't even cum half the times. It didn't matter. What mattered was her being satisfied because that meant she was happy. A happy Charlotte didn't punish him.

It was different with Anette. Despite the need to be in charge and dominate the entire thing, he wanted her to be satisfied too. More than anything he wanted to put her above himself, but not to keep her from punishing him. He wanted her to be happy because of him.

"Dean," she whispered.

He buried his teeth in her neck with a loud groan, biting down on her skin while he came, letting go because he wanted to let go and not because he was forced, and still careful not to break her skin or leave a mark.

He rolled down next to her, his chest heaving like crazy. He felt good. He felt empowered. He felt wanted. And he felt safe. He hadn't felt safe for a long time. He turned his head and looked at her. The second their eyes met, reality came rushing back in. There was a whole world outside his hotel room that was still waiting for them.

"So," she started.
"Yeah," he said. "It's probably best if you leave."

He felt horrible for saying those words. He sounded cold. Like she didn't matter at all to him. She got out of bed, and dressed as fast as she could with her back against him. He wanted to reach out and touch her. He wanted to ask her to stay the night. Instead he let her go. She never looked back at him, and he never said anything. The door closed behind her, and he kept looking in its direction, feeling his tears fall again, only this time she wasn't there to comfort him.