Because she wanted him too...

Oh, she gave other reasons too. Guilt. Arousal from the machine. Pride in him, given that he'd resisted the temptation to take advantage of any of the women on the machines. Obedience. Pride in herself, as she could make him so hard. But what it all boiled down to was that, in that moment, he was a man, she was a woman and she wanted him, wanted to make him feel good, in a way she hadn't since his father had died. The fire, the rage, the power, ability and intellect, he had surpassed his father in all dimensions, but that core of goodness was the same and had always made her knees weak.

He helped her off her knees and moved her back so her back was to the wall. She wanted him. He wanted her. They were consenting adults, there was no crime here, and he wasn?t a big fan of laws either, given that he was a vigilante.

His hands were on her face, pulling it to his and their tongues fought for dominance. He could taste just a hint of his own cum and a hint of the sweat cream that had been **** into her mouth by the machine. His cock twitched against her, rising again, despite having just cum, his superhuman endurance and the fact that he'd lusted after her since his first hard-on combined to let him recover instantly.

He picked her up and buried his head in her breasts, motorboating her as she hovered in place and he thrust two fingers into the slit in her costume and into her slit in turn. Her moans grew loud as he confirmed she was ready to be fucked. His hand withdrew, despite the fact that her pussy?s muscles tried to pull him back in and her incoherent moan of protest. Then he guided his cock towards those lips, his head brushing against its lips.

"No," she whispered, "not in my pussy, I can't..."