She bit me, and not just a little bit. The bitch bites me… hard.
“Fuck,” I hiss, startled by the unexpected pain. I shove away from her, giving her enough time to buck me off and roll away from me.
Stunned, I get up on my knees and bring my hand to the side of my neck to touch the tender spot.
She really fucking bit me.
I watch her get up, and I already know her next move. She’s going to make a run for it. It’s what weak prey that can’t fight back do. She doesn’t get a single step in before I snatch her ankle and pull her back down onto the mat. Her body lands on the floor with a thud, and she lets out a yelp. She kicks at me with her free foot, but I evade her attack with ease.
Grabbing her from behind, I pull her body flush to my chest and hook my arm around her throat, putting her in a chokehold. She fights me in earnest now, elbowing me in the ribs and even trying to throw her head back, probably hoping to connect with my face. None of her moves faze me. All that matters in this instance is control.
Ignoring my surroundings and her struggling, I tighten my grip on her. Like a boa constrictor, I pull her in, closer with each breath she takes.
Her ass grinds against my crotch while she fights harder to get away, and both of her hands claw at my arms shackled around her. Her sharp nails pierce my skin, eliciting a hiss from me. I already know she’s going to leave more than that bite mark on me.
Once more, I tighten my hold on her, drawing a defeated whimper from her lips. One moment, her whole body is stiff, fighting against me with all her might, and the next, she goes completely lax in my hold.
Her head lolls back and onto my shoulder, and her arms fall uselessly to her side.
The room goes eerily quiet, and when I look up, I notice the whole class has stopped fighting. All eyes are on me, holding a passed-out Aspen in my arms.
My first instinct is to release her altogether and let her unconscious body fall to the mat, but something has me pausing. I drop my arm from her throat but continue holding her, supporting her weight fully. The concept has an allure I didn’t know I was craving. I don’t know why, but I like cradling her to my chest when she is passed out and can’t defend herself—not that she has a chance against me even when fully conscious.
An odd sense of calmness washes over me. There is something about having this kind of control over her. I’m not only holding her body in my arms; I’m holding her entire life in the palm of my hands.
For the past year, everything around me has been chaos. I couldn’t protect the people I love… I was so helpless. I had no power over anything, but right now, at this very moment, I’m in charge. I, and only I, decide what happens next.
The only question is, what am I going to choose?