It’s a heady feeling. One that’s unsteadying and distracting, as it is intoxicating.
The need to swallow her completely overtakes me. I’ve never wanted something inside me so bad…to be a physical part of me. Not like I want her.
“For someone so fucking intelligent, you are so obtuse sometimes. You’re her child and she is scared to shit that you’ll end up like ours. So yes, I told her we were coming here, and I told her you needed her. She’s our only ally. Why do you think she brought Wayne?”
I don’t know whether I want to strangle her or fuck her. I don’t know whether I love her or hate her. I have no fucking clue what’s happening because as fucking furious as I am with her for going behind my back, I’m also astonished by her guile and fierceness.
Arabella hasn’t stopped fighting for a single second. It’s ironic what we’re about to do, because I know I’ll beat her. She’ll put up a good fight as always, but in the end my mass will overshadow hers.
Letting her go I take a step back, twisting the doorknob as I push the door behind her open.
“You want to fight, right? You want blood on your hands?”
Turning around, she sighs as the sensor lights bring the room to life. The minute her eyes settle on the wall ahead, she sags a little. “Really? This is how you want to settle this? You want to fight me?”
My chest squeezes with my racing heart, the feeling of hers still pulsing in my empty hands. It’s not the first time we’ve used a bout to settle our disagreements or as a way of coercing the other to our wants. It’s how she ended up on a date with me. Now she’s my wife.
I’d say that gives me a fucking great track record on these things. And today will be the same as it was then. I’ll win to get what I want. Her submission.
Arabella won’t go down without a fight, and as much as I admire that, I want to break her. I want her on her knees, begging me to rip her apart.
Let’s face it, that’s what she wants. She’s brutally perfect for me.
“We’ve been up all night. Do you really expect me to fence right now?”
“Pick your weapon.”
Grabbing one of the masks off the hook, I throw it at her. She’s ready to catch it, and the minute it falls into her hands, she puts it on with a huff. Stalking towards me with another flurry of curses, Arabella picks an épée from wall. She slams one to my chest as she toes off her boots and then stomps off to the middle of the room.
“Muévete!”
Dropping the sword to the bench by the wall, I pull off my body warmer and the thick sweatshirt beneath it so that I’m left in my compression Henley.
I put a mask on and grab the sword, meeting her in the middle of the room. I circle her slowly. The affect that one move has on her is obvious. Even under my thick hoodie, the rapid rise and fall of her chest is noticeable.
“Pret.” I stop in front of her, knees bent, sword at an angle, and my empty ha
nd tucked at the small of my back.
Mimicking my stance, she spits, “Ready.”
“En garde!”
“Stop dragging this out! Get on with it!”
“Allez!” Casper’s voice rings from the doorway.
Leo’s leaning on the frame beside him, and they both look hyped to shit, jittery with adrenaline.
“Go away!” Barking at them, Arabella goes for a low inside attack with a lunge.
Blocking her, I round to her side, pulling back. “First to fifteen wins.”
“What’re you bouting for?” Leo asks with a low chuckle.
“My wife wants in.” I block another high outside attack, and the sweep of my arm pulls on the stitches on my shoulder. Pain radiates through my chest and my arm. I have to bite on my tongue to stop myself from crying out in pain. The fucking and now this is straining the wound.
“This isn’t fair and you know it!” Lunging again, she goes straight for the bullet hole.