Ruthless Princess (Mafia Royals 1) - Page 50

“Fight.” I peeled my tank top off, then grabbed the tape he’d tossed and started wrapping my knuckles and wrists. I was quick, tearing the white tape with my teeth when I was done. My fingers still had hairline fractures, so I’d have to attempt not to make them worse. “Ready.”

He eyed me up and down. “I almost feel guilty that you’re fighting me in a pink sports bra, you know blood’s a bitch to get out, right?”

I smiled and bowed with my fist pressed into my palm. “I doubt I’ll even get a splatter.”

He turned my bow. “Let’s just say I’m apologizing in advance, and if I knock out a tooth, don’t go to Nixon, all right? He’ll have my balls even if it’s a fair fight.”

I smirked and bounced on my toes. “Cute, that you think you still have balls.”

He growled low in his throat. God, he was devastating when he looked at me like that. Those aqua eyes might as well hold me in a damn trance the way they locked on me with the precision of a knife.

He moved first.

I ducked and landed my roundhouse near his right ear. He batted my leg out of the way and nearly caught my ankle as I stumbled back. “That all you got, princess?”

I bared my teeth and charged, this time aiming for a kick to his shin while throwing a right hook.

My right hook didn’t hit, but my shin kick did. He stumbled a bit and then threw a right punch, then an elbow. His elbow landed right on my chin, splitting it wide open. Well, that was gonna need stitches.

“Whoops.” He winked.

I went for his feet again in a double leg takedown and managed to get him to stumble. Then I wrapped myself around him, taking him to the ground in an attempt to get a reversal.

He rolled me to my back and was able to get an elbow into my side before jumping to his feet and muttering, “Zuffa.”

Shit, an Italian term for fighting with no rules. I crooked my fingers at him and whispered, “Bring it.”

“Hey, Serena, you got a bit of blood, right here.” He motioned to his chin.

I landed a blow to his right cheek only to get back-handed with his hand. I stumbled and ducked as he tried to rush me. I knew that maneuver; he wanted to throw me to my back or side and try to get a rear naked choke, his favorite. We all had them, just like we all had weaknesses.

I moved away and landed another blow to his nose. But it was almost like he let me. I frowned as his massive chest heaved, then his eyes flashed as he ran at me, going low, knocking my legs out from under me and flipping me onto my back with a huge thud.

He straddled me, hooking his legs around me as he braced me against the ground, our faces inches away. “Tap out.”

“No.” I struggled beneath him.

“Tap the fuck out before you get hurt, princess.”

I knocked my head against his, making him lose his tight grip and then used my body weight to get him onto his stomach, I tried to get my arm beneath his chin, but he was already pulling me away like I weighed nothing at all when I knew I trained hard to be able to play with the big boys.

I cursed when he threw me onto my back a second time; the wind knocked out of me as I gasped for air and still refused to tap my fingers.

His fist came down next, but it was a soft hit, I knew it, he knew it, which just pissed me off. “You used to hit harder.”

“Son of a bitch, Serena, seriously.” Blood oozed from his right eyebrow. Fingers crossed, I broke his nose—again.

Both of us were panting as he pinned my arms above my head. I squirmed beneath him, trying to flip him with my legs, digging my heels in but meeting only muscle.

He let out a strangled groan when I thrust my hips up again in an attempt to gain some separation so I could get my hands between us.

He shuddered. “Stop playing dirty.”

“I never promised to play fair.” I shot him a flirty smile, and then I thrust my hips up against his already growing erection. He would typically pull away, it was my secret move, almost like he was afraid I was going to break his dick in half, except this time, he pinned me harder against the mat.

Panic seized my chest. He was supposed to pull away, not push me harder, or grow harder for that matter.

His eyes searched mine as blood dripped from his face onto my chest. “I can do this all day, princess.”

“Me.” I bucked my hips. “Too.”

Tags: Rachel Van Dyken Mafia Royals Crime
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