“I don’t know? My body just knew what to do.”
“Try to break free again. I won’t make it easy this time.”
I grab her from behind with a proper restraint hold that should challenge someone without extensive training. Katya evaluates my position for all of three seconds before she drives her elbow into my solar plexus, stomps where my foot would be, and throws me over her shoulder onto the mat.
I land hard, and the wind rushes from my lungs as I stare up at her.
“That wasn’t self-defense, kotyonok. That was military-level combat training.”
She stares down at me, pinching her eyebrows together even as a satisfied smile spreads across her face. “I did it again. Knew something I shouldn’t know.”
“Attack me,” she orders before I can analyze what just happened. “I mean,reallyattack me.”
I pull myself to my feet and shake my head. “I’m not going to attack you.”
“Spar with me, then. Test what I know.”
There’s hunger in her voice now, something predatory that I recognize because I’ve felt it myself. The need to move, to fight, to prove capabilities through physical dominance.
“You sure about this?”
“Yes.”
I fall into a fighting stance. Katya mirrors my posture, her weight balanced, and her hands positioned perfectly for both offense and defense.
I throw a testing jab toward her face. She slips the punch like a professional and counters with a combination that forces me to block aggressively.
“Jesus. Who taught you to fight like that?”
“I wish I knew.”
We circle each other on the mat, and I realize this has moved beyond training into something more serious. The way she moves, anticipates my attacks, and flows from defense to offense...
This woman is a weapon. And she’s mine.
I throw a real punch this time, not trying to hurt her, but not pulling it either. She deflects it and steps inside my guard. Suddenly, we’re grappling for position. Her hands are on my shoulders, and my arms are around her waist as we fight for leverage.
She moves to throw me again, but I slam her back into the mirrored wall, pinning her wrists high above her head with my weight.
“Nice try,” she pants, eyes blazing.
I press harder into her, my cock straining against her stomach. “You think this is supposed to be easy?”
Our bodies grind together, sweat-slick and shaking from exertion, but the heat twisting through us isn’t just adrenaline.
I pin her wrists higher, forcing her back into the cold glass until her chest arches into mine. Her eyes have gone dark, wild.
“This is dangerous.” Her voice trembles, but she rolls her hips against me anyway. “God, I shouldn’t want you like this.”
“But you do,” I snarl, grinding harder against her. “Your body’s begging for it.”
“Fuck yes. Even when I know I shouldn’t.”
I kiss her hard, and she responds with the same aggressive energy she brought to our fighting. Her teeth catch my lower lip, demanding more as I release her wrists so she can rake her fingers through my hair and pull me closer.
“This is absurd,” she gasps against my mouth, but her hands are still working at my clothes despite her words.
I peel her T-shirt over her head, revealing the black sports bra underneath, which I remove as well. She shivers as the cool gym temperature hits her heated skin, and her nipples harden.
