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Sicko.
I step back, twisting my face in disgust and intrigue. I am so fucked.
“Playing dirty, huh?” He strides slowly in the opposite direction while I go the other.
“I came to win.” I go back into stance, sticking out my sword.
He shrugs. “Fair. I hope you can handle what comes next.” His voice emanates with warning, sending chills down my spine.
The crowd screams in pure excitement at how this fight went completely left. The heavy darkness clouds around his large frame. I don’t show that I’m nervous, but inside I am rattling, like someone playing drums with my bones.
He moves hard and fast toward me, not stopping until he hits every part of my body. I’m sure he even hit my foot. I blocked as many as I could, but he’s good. Too good. By then, he’s alreadyswiped my sword out of my hand, the clattering metal hitting the ground.
“Shit,” I grit. I stand there as the crowd rises and feet stomping like an elephant stampede.
Ronan only steps back with a sly grin on his face, his chin raised, showing his thick neck and the bulge of his Adam’s apple. Sweat is glistening off his forehead, and my breath is heavy, my chest rising and falling. I’mrealizingwhat this means.
I failed. Miserably.
“Headman wins, fifteen to ten!” Wicked Mal shouts proudly, looking along in the arena. The entire miniature stadium cheers, some even placing up the symbol G; I can’t even be angry at their devotion. I’m only mad at myself. Because now I am helpless and subjected to him. It’s not like I didn’t agree with it.
“I want to go again!” I shout, reaching down to pick up my sword.Now I’m the sore loser.
Ronan laughs. Actually, laughs. It is a shot to my pride. “Why? I’ll only beat you again. And then you’ll have to give me something more.” This time he says it low enough for me to hear. My gaze shoots to his, and it's flashing with impending dark desire. I don't want to understand his meaning behind that, so look away, swallowing. My heart is pounding from the fight—and also the idea of his mouth on mine. I haven’t kissed a man in a long time, and if I did, it was never enjoyable. I was only heightening the mood for sex. So maybe this will be the same.
“How do you want to do this?” I cross my arms, putting my weight on one side.
Ronan nods to the door, and I thought he meant for me to leave, but I was wrong. All the people began moving from the stands one by one, exiting the room like an army of ants.
“Sorry you lost, Cinderella,” Wicked Mal says, walking past me with a smirk on her evil face.
Why did I agree with this?
Ronan and I stand in the middle of the enormous area, now cleared of onlookers.
The crunching sounds of his boots scratch beneath the tanned gravel as he slowly approaches me. He inches his gloves off before flinging them to the ground.
It’s dark, lethal. My breath releases shakily… Sexy.
My hands began sweating in the gloves, my poor heart quivering against my chest. I’ve never been more nervous in my life. However, I can’t help feeling an immense pressure deep in the V of my thighs. My back hits something hard until I realize I’ve been backing up this entire time. I quickly remove my gloves, dropping them as well.
“You can’t run from me, Anita,” he drools ominously, his frame is shadowing over, and I become swallowed by his silhouette. He places both hands beside my face, trapping me like a Venus flytrap. There’s no escaping him now. “A deal’s a deal.”
I reluctantly lick my lips, swallowing, but it doesn’t help. “I never lose, so you must’ve cheated in some way.”
He reaches for my curls, grabbing a hunk, and bringing it to his nose. He inhales deeply as if it's a drug he’s always needed, his eyes closing slowly. I watch as he opens back and wraps a strand around his finger. “You can’t cheat when you’re the teacher.” He cracks a smile.
My beating heart drops. Of course, he’s the teacher, his skill was superb. He played me all along. And I fell right into the trap. “You knew I was going to fail,” I breathe out, my hand flat on the wall.
He tilts his head, tugging at the strand. “If I admit it, would it make you feel better?”
“From the jump, I knew I was doomed.” I walked right into it. Clever man.
I observe him lick his lips, my mouth watering at the soft, lushness of them.
His other hand slides down over my collarbone, and I instantly tense from the graze of his rough hands drifting upon my skin. It roams up my neck, then to my chin, resting on my jaw. My mouth parts as his thumb glides smoothly over my lips, I shudder again, my breath picking up.
I lift my chin, sucking in a breath. The warmth from his large hands causes tiny bumps to form, pricking on my skin, sending flutters through my body. I gaze at him; he stares at my lips, continuing his thumb tease.