“You could’ve taken my head off, asshole.”
“You want to learn to fight, don’t you? You’re not going to do that without taking a few—”
She comes at me hard. Fists swinging, snarling with a sharp rage. I dodge back, block a kick aimed at my shin, and step into a punch. It misses me by inches and I move down, drive an elbow into her midsection, and shove her back.
She wheezes, holding her gut. “Prick.”
“That was good. Fast and vicious. Didn’t leave me any room for maneuvering. Let’s go again.”
We fight like that for an hour. I pull my punches because I’m not trying to kill the girl, but I hit her and knock her over and every single time she gets back up. More than once, I offer to let her quit. I give her an out—tell her we can have drinks on the beach or lounge in the pool—and each time she tells me to fuck off and we go again.
She’s gorgeous. She’s incredible. The more I hit her, the more I hurt her, the more I want to fuck her and feast on her. The more I want to kiss her. It’s the strength that draws me, that inner light shining through her rage. When she first came to me, she was an injured, beaten little puppy dog, afraid of loud noises and limping around and feeling sorry for herself.
Now she’s growing into a killer. Now she’s turning herself into a monster.
And I love it.
“Good,” I say when she lands a punch and tries to ram her knee into my balls. I barely twist out of the way before throwing her to the ground. She hits with a grunt and flips me off from her back.
She climbs to her feet slowly and wipes blood from her lips. She takes out her mouthguard, spits more blood, and grins. “This sucks. Let’s go again.”
“You need a break.” I stand with my hands on my hips. “You did really well today. You’re getting decent, and in a few more weeks—”
She attacks. I dance backward, keeping her out of range with a few quick jabs. But there’s something different in her this time, like she’s determined not only to land a punch or two, but to actually kill me. Like we’re locked in a real life-or-death struggle, and she’s intent on being the one to walk away. It’s incredible, and she moves with a sleek speed that surprises me.
I try to swat her back. I’m tired, sweating, aching, and my cock’s half-hard from touching her body and wrestling with her. I need a cold shower and twenty minutes to get my shit together, but she’s not backing off. She pummels me, fighting like a savage, and she lands more than a few glancing punches until I finally grapple her, pull her around, and hold her in a half choke lock from behind. Her lower back is pressed against my crotch and she’s breathing hard as I tighten my hold.
“Submit,” I whisper in her ear.
“Fuck you.” She stomps her heel into my instep and I grunt with pain, releasing my grip enough that she drops down, turns, and throws herself into me.
We tumble down to the grass in a heap. She comes up on top and swings her fists into my face. I get my legs up in a guard but this isn’t a fair fight and I’m easily twice her size. I turn her, throw her off me, and pin her to the ground before she can escape.
She lies under me breathing hard, staring up into my eyes. She spits out her mouthguard and shows me her teeth.
“It’s all about how big you are, isn’t it?” She tilts her chin up. “I’ll never really win against you no matter how hard I go.”
“It’s not about winning against me in a fair fight.” I move down and brush my mouth against her neck. I take a deep breath enjoying the smell of her slick, salty skin. She shivers under me, struggling slightly, but I keep her controlled. “Submit now.”
“Never. What’s it all about then?”
“It’s about playing dirty. It’s about doing whatever it takes to survive.”
I feel something between my legs and look down.
It’s her knee pressing against my crotch.
She grins when I realize what she’s doing.
“You mean like this?”
I roll before she can bring it up and smash my balls and laugh as she lands on top. I spit out my mouthguard, grinning as she straddles me, her back arched and her hips back, and there’s no fucking way she doesn’t feel my cock against her soft, wet, warm slit. There’s not much between us, only her yoga pants and my half-tights, and I’m so hard I could cut fucking glass right now.
“If you had a gun, all you’d need to do is get enough space to use it.” I sit up and wrap my arms around her. Her neck is against my mouth and her breasts heave against my chest. “Fight for space. Fight for time. Kill fast.”
“You really think I could kill someone?”
“If they intended to kill you first, I think you would. You’d be surprised at what you’d do if you had no other choice.”