He was dressed only in a pair of tight shorts that hid absolutely nothing. The same thing he probably fought in, and was most-likely wearing when he video called me.
He'd need a distraction, so I was going to play devil's advocate.
"That's what you wear to fight?" I asked, trying to sound entirely unimpressed.
He glanced down at his shorts, his cock already hardening and lengthening. "Yeah."
"Great." My voice was brittle.
"Do you have a problem with my shorts, Love?This is standard for a fighter. More clothing means more for your opponent to grab. Particularly when shadows are involved in the fights."
"Would you have a problem with me wearing that in front of everyone we both know?"
His eyes narrowed. "Of course not."
"You fight women sometimes," I stated. It wasn't a question. Rae had confirmed that for me earlier.
"Not often, but yes. Sometimes."
"And those women typically wear something similar to what you have on."
"Shorts and a sports bra."
"Right. So if I was dressed in shorts and a sports bra, bucking beneath a mostly-naked man on a mat, you would have no problem with it." My words came out evenly.
His nostrils flared. I saw the rage in his eyes at the idea, though he refused to acknowledge it."No. There's nothing sexual about fighting."
"Don't lie to me. Do you think I've forgotten how many of our dreams have taken place in your fighting gyms, Darke? On the mats? In the locker room? In the showers? It's one of your favorite places to spend your nights with me."
"There's nothing sexual about me fighting a woman who wants to take my throne," he growled, stalking toward me.
"What ifIwanted to take your throne?"
He kneeled between my thighs. “We both know that you could ask for anything you wanted for me, and I'd hand it over without batting an eye."
I sucked in a breath as he lowered his nose to my pants and inhaled deeply. "What are you doing?"
"Reminding myself who you belong to, Love."
"Fuck," I choked out a curse as he dragged his nose slowly over my center. The pressure was light, barely there, made gentler by the fabric between us.
It wasn't as good as it would've been in the real world, either, but it was still fucking spectacular.
"Now what are you doing?" I breathed, as he slid my pants and underwear down my thighs the way he had a million times in our dreams. They hit the floor before he answered.
"Remindingyouwho you belong to."
"Myself?"
"No, Love." Grayson tipped his head back and met my eyes. "You're mine. Say it."
I took him in.
He was kneeling, tense, and clearly fighting his instincts between my bare knees.
I’d hurt him by keeping the truth to myself and hiding our connection. That hadn't been my intention. Not at all. I'd been focused on protecting myself.
But it was still true. I had hurt him.
