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Then he stepped into her next attack. Her fist struck his shoulder, but he absorbed the blow, getting close enough to land a punch right to her gut. It knocked the breath from her. She barely had time to double over before he caught her, yanking her toward him.

In one swift motion, he trapped her arms behind her back and crashed his mouth against hers.

The kiss was brutal—more a clash of lips and teeth than anything tender.

And Taly… damn it if she didn’t moan, arching into him, desperate for more. It had been too many days without this—withouthim.

Shifting his weight, he pressed their bodies closer. Need sharpened, tipping into desperation. It would’ve been easy to let herself get lost in his taste, his scent…

With a snarl, she tore her mouth from his, jerking back and slamming her head into his nose.

Skye staggered back. One step. Two. She had just enough time to see the flash of heat and longing in his eyes before it froze over, and he launched into the offensive.

Taly was good. But Skye was better.

Bigger. Heavier. More comfortable in close combat.

It was a struggle to keep up. A struggle to stay focused. Because watching Skye fight—it was like watching an artist, one painting with motion instead of color, every muscle and movement perfectly precise.

He was herding her to the edge of the ring, where his gear was still in a pile. She glanced to the side. Barely half a second of hesitation, enough to keep her from tripping, but he saw the opening and took it, getting in close.

She had to twist to avoid the hand that grabbed for her, though it didn’t save her from the leg that swept out her feet.

Taly slammed into the ground. Sand cushioned the blow, though her body still barked at the pain.

He was on top of her before reflex could kick in, carrying her through the series of movements that would have led her back to her feet.

Instead, his weight pressed her into the ground, solid and unyielding. He wrenched both hands above her head, pinning them as she thrashed and bared her teeth in defiance.

But Skye just laughed at the venom in her eyes, the blind rage. Because he’d won. They both knew it. First to pin gets the win. That had always been the rule.

His breathing was heavy. Blood trickled from a busted lip, the wound already healing. But he was smiling.

“Have I ever told you how beautiful you look when you’re trying to beat me senseless?”

Taly growled through her teeth, “Just call it and get off me.”

“No.” That smile turned wicked. Holding both her wrists in one hand, he trailed a finger down the space between herbreasts, lingering over each button. “I’ve missed having you under me. I think I’m going to savor it. Next time, maybe trywinningif you want to call the shots.”

She tried to wriggle her body, tried to kick. But they were chest to chest, stomach to stomach, with his hips settled solidly against hers.

“Yeah, keep doing that,” he said with a shudder.

She stopped, realizing the growing hardness wedged between her legs.

“If you’re nice,” he murmured, pressing his lips to the side of her throat, “I might give you a second go.”

Taly clenched her jaw, willing herself to stay still, but her body had other ideas—breath hitching, thighs tensing, heat curling low in her stomach. She tried to hold onto the anger, but it was slipping. And beneath it, the want was still there, low and hot, treacherous as ever, becauseShards, she’d missed him too.

“What do you say, Tink? Can you be nice?” Then he nipped her, hard enough to sting. Only pure will and stubbornness kept her from arching into him as he followed the small hurt with a featherlight kiss against too-sensitive skin.

“Oh, please, good sir,” she cooed breathlessly, “won’t you let me up so I can make you eat sand?”

“Big words for someone that already got themselves pinned.”

Then he thrust against her. Taly let out a startled cry, pure will and stubbornness utterly failing her as her hips bucked into him.

“Thought so,” Skye murmured. The words were rough. “It’s nice to know I’m not the only one that can’t stop thinking about this.”