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Maybe it wasn’t the original move I’d have chosen, but without thinking, I reared my head back, head butting him in the face. It might have been a desperate move, but it worked, catching him off guard as he released me. “Fuck,” he cursed, his chest heaving as he tried to regain his composure.

I watched as he straightened his body, his hand rubbing at the sore spot on his forehead where I’d struck him. His gaze was dark, his expression unreadable as he yanked me back into him. “You’re full of surprises, wife, but this isn’t over.”

“It’ll never be over with us, will it?” I scoffed, challenging him, and not giving in.

“Not until I put you on the floor in triumph.” His lips twisted up into a dangerous smile.

“Okay, no holding back,” I promised.

We circled each other once more, tension crackling in the air as adrenaline coursed through my veins like an electric current. My mind raced, calculating my next move with precision. He was undeniably strong and skilled, a formidable opponent in his own right, but I had my own set of strengths honed over years of training. My grandfather's lessons echoed in my mind, a testament to the discipline and skill he had instilled in me. I wasn’t about to let Lorenzo underestimate me once again. The determination in my eyes was a silent promise that this time, I would not be taken lightly.

He lunged at me with a sudden burst of energy, his movements swift and meticulously calculated. But I was prepared, my senses heightened and my stance steady. I sidestepped gracefully, targeting his arm with precision. As anticipated, he dodged my strike with a fluid motion, his reflexes as impressive as ever. We continued our intricate dance, moving around the mat that lay at the centre of the gym, our feet barely making a whisper against its surface. The room was silent exceptfor the rhythmic sound of our breathing and the occasional thud of our bodies colliding with intent and force.

There was something about Lorenzo tonight that I couldn’t put my finger on. His eyes darkened when he looked at me, his grip lingering a moment longer than I expected. It was hard not to feel the heat building low in my stomach. What should have felt like pure anger was something far more dangerous.

What the fuck was going on with me?! He was an absolute bastard, but the things he could do with his fingers and mouth were out of this world. Unwanted, but incredible.

We paused for a second, our chests heaving and eyes locked, both wondering who would emerge victorious.

“I have to admit, tonight has been entertaining.” He whispered, his breathing more ragged than before.

“What part? When you spoke to me like shit in the kitchen or now?” I asked as his arm snaked around my waist firmly.

He inched his face closer to mine, his breath mingling with my own. I could feel the rapid beat of his heart, matching my own.

“Here. Now.” He breathed. “You distracted me, though.”

“How did I manage to do that?” I asked as his fingers traced the line of my jaw, sending unusual sparks through my body.

“By this,” he said, his voice rougher than before. “By the way you move, and the way you fight me. No matter what I throw at you, you give what you get.”

“Careful, Lorenzo, you sound like you’re softening towards me.” I laughed, his jaw ticking at my words.

“That’ll never happen, just remember that,” he murmured as I tried to pull away. He stopped me. “God, Anastacia, I can’t stand you, but all I want to do is kiss you,” he growled.

“Do you think you can walk in here and just—” I began, my voice getting cut off as he leaned into me, his lips brushing my ear.

“Just, what?” He smirked. “Use you? Fuck you, perhaps?”

“You’re a prick,” I hissed.

“And you’re a liar,” he countered. “You want this as much as I do.”

I opened my mouth to deny it, of course I did, but the words caught in my throat when he slammed his lips to mine. The kiss was fierce, demanding, and so fucking hot. I knew I should’ve ended this game, but his words, his touch, his proximity was all too much.

“You know I’ll regret whatever this is after, don’t you?” I murmured against his lips.

“So will I,” he retorted back, his feelings matching mine as his voice was hoarse with desire.

The kiss grew more urgent and intense as my clothes became an obstacle to him. With a swift, tearing motion, he ripped open my tank top, letting the shredded fabric fall carelessly to the floor. His eyes descended to my exposed breasts, his gaze was filled with hunger and urgency. He pressed me firmly against the sturdy beam, where my knife still hung, while his lips traveled a rough, passionate path down my neck, leaving a tingling trail in their wake. His hands cupped my breasts, his touch igniting a cascade of pleasure that rippled through my entire being. I arched towards him involuntarily, momentarily forgetting the animosity that had once consumed me, as my fingers wove themselves through his thick hair, pulling him closer.

“Fuck.” I moaned as his dominance took over.

Lorenzo’s hands moved lower, his touch deliberate and skilled. “Tell me to stop.” His words were firm, but I couldn’t tell him despite wanting to. My body betrayed me, but I didn’t care. “You can't, can you?”

“I can, but I won’t tonight.” I managed.

His grin was smug and triumphant, but he hadn’t won yet. He wouldn’t touch me tonight. I’d be the one to make him come this time.