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He crashes onto his back, cursing.

“You think I’ll roll over just because my tits are out?” I snarl, chest rising with every breath.

Bodhi grins like the devil. “No,” he says, circling. “We’re counting on you fighting harder.”

I rush him.

We collide mid-mat, limbs locking, muscles straining, sweat and skin sliding against each other. He grabs me around the waist, tries to lift—I twist, slam my elbow into his ribs, and bring us both down in a messy tangle.

He’s under me for a second—just long enough for me to straddle his hips and grind down with enough force to make him groan.

"You’re slipping," I hiss, hand sliding across his throat in a mock choke. “Getting soft on me?”

He snarls—snarls—and the next second, we’re flipping again.

His grip tangles in my hair, yanks me back just enough to expose my throat as he pins me under him, breath hot and ragged over my mouth.

"You really think you're winning?" he pants, dragging his hips tight to mine. "Thisis you losing."

"Then fuck—" I twist hard enough to throw him off, only for Matteo to step in, catching me mid-lurch, slamming me sideways against the mirror again with enough force to rattle it.

“You’re gonna break the glass,” I rasp, struggling against his hold.

“We’ll replace it,” he growls into my neck.

His hand slides up my ribs, fingers catching the underside of my breast with bruising intent, and Ibitehim—right at the edge of his jaw.

I slam my heel back into his shin and twist out of his grip with a snarl. He grunts, but lets me go.

Good.

I spin fast, fist already cocked, and throw a punch at Bodhi the second he lunges. He dodges—barely—but I follow with a knee aimed straight for his ribs. He catches it mid-air, grunting as we crash to the mat together in a tangle of limbs and sweat.

We roll. Hard. He tries to pin me. I bite his shoulder.

“Fuck—” he hisses, grabbing both my wrists and forcing them to the mat above my head as he straddles my hips.

“You done?” he pants, chest heaving.

“Not even close,” I growl—and bring my head forward hard enough tocrackagainst his.

He flinches back just long enough for me to reverse us.

Now I’m on top again.

My bare chest brushes against his sweat-slick one as I hold his wrists down and snarl into his face.

"You were always too fucking cocky."

His smile is blood and lust and savagery.

Matteo growls low from behind. “My turn.”

I barely have time to shift before he’s there—rippingme off Bodhi like a fucking ragdoll and throwing me onto the mat. I hit hard. My body bounces once, air knocked from my lungs.

Then his body crashes down over mine. All heat and weight and muscle.

“Don’t—” I start, breath ragged.