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Ryan’s house is massive, bigger than I imagined. It sits on a huge piece of property, surrounded by tall shrubs and an iron fence that gives it a secluded, private feel. The outside is meticulously kept, just like everything else in Ryan’s life—clean, organized, deliberate. When we pull up, I’m in awe of the size, the grand stone exterior, and the perfect landscaping.

“Wow,” I breathe out as we step through the front door. The entryway is enormous, with high ceilings and walls lined with wrestling memorabilia. Ryan’s entire career is here on display, from framed photos of his biggest matches to signed posters and belts hanging in sleek glass cases. It’s like stepping into a museum dedicated to him.

“Make yourself at home,” Ryan says with a smirk, watching me as I take it all in. I’m speechless, just wandering through, running my fingers over the smooth surfaces, admiring everything around me.

He shows me around, the grand living room, the gourmet kitchen, the patio with a pool that overlooks the vast, private property. But when we get to the bedroom, that’s when things change.

“Leave your bags here,” Ryan murmurs, his voice low and full of intent.

I barely have time to process before his hands are on me, rough and insistent, gripping my waist as he lifts me effortlessly. My breath catches, my body instantly reacting to the dominance in his touch.

“There’s no fucking way I’m not taking you in this bed right now,” he growls, and before I can respond, I’m weightless for a second—then falling .

I gasp as my back hits the soft mattress, the world tilting as he towers over me. His gaze is dark, wild, heavy with possession as he rips at my clothes, peeling them away with a desperation that sends a rush of heat straight to my core.

“Fuck,” he breathes, dragging his hands over my bare skin, his chest rising and falling with deep, uneven breaths. The way he looks at me—like he’s starving, like I’m the only thing he’ll ever crave—makes my skin flush.

Then his clothes are gone too, stripped away in seconds, revealing every perfect, powerful inch of him. Every muscle ripples as he moves over me, his body tense with restraint he’s fast losing.

The moment his mouth crashes against mine, all thought disappears. His kiss is hungry , consuming, his tongue claiming every part of me as his hands roam, gripping, teasing, owning . I arch into him as his rough palms find my breasts, kneading, his thumbs flicking over my hardened nipples until I’m whimpering into his mouth.

“You like that, baby?” His voice is pure sin as he drags his mouth down my neck, over my collarbone, his breath hot against my skin. “You need more?”

I barely manage a nod before his lips close around one aching peak, sucking hard, his tongue flicking mercilessly. Pleasure crashes through me in waves, my back arching as he moves lower, trailing fire over my stomach, leaving a path of open-mouthed kisses that make my pulse skyrocket.

I feel his breath against my inner thighs before I even register how wide he’s spread them.

“Fuck, baby,” he groans, his voice thick with need as his fingers trace over my slick folds. “So wet for me already.”

I shudder as his tongue replaces his fingers, teasing me in slow, devastating strokes, his grip tightening on my hips when I try to squirm away from the overwhelming pleasure.

“Ryan—”

He growls against me, the vibration sending a shockwave through my entire body. “You’re not going anywhere, baby.” His hands slide under my thighs, holding me open as he devours me, his tongue plunging deep, twisting, curling—driving me higher and higher until I’m trembling, gasping, barely able to form words.

When he looks up, his molten brown eyes locking onto mine, my stomach flips.

“You taste so fucking good,” he rasps before flicking his tongue over my clit again, slow and torturous, his grip tightening when I moan helplessly. “Give me all of it, baby. Come all over my tongue.”

A sharp cry rips from my throat as pleasure explodes through me, my body arching off the bed as I come apart in his hands. My thighs clamp around his head, but he doesn’t stop—he keeps licking, tasting, drawing out every last pulse of pleasure until I’m shaking, completely undone.

“Ryan,” I gasp, my fingers tangling in his hair. “I need you. Now.”

His groan is low and dark as he pulls back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, his eyes glazed with raw desire.

“Yeah?” His voice is thick, teasing. “You need my cock inside you?”

I nod frantically, my body still pulsing with aftershocks, aching for more.

Ryan wastes no time. He kneels between my legs, his thick cock standing hard and ready, the head glistening with precum as he strokes himself once, twice. The sight alone makes my breath hitch.

“You ready for me, baby?”

“Yes,” I moan, my nails digging into his biceps as I wrap my legs around his waist. “I need you.”

With a guttural growl, he thrusts into me, filling me in one deep, powerful stroke. My cry is swallowed by his mouth as he kisses me hard, swallowing every gasp, every moan as he starts to move.

His pace is relentless —deep, demanding, claiming every inch of me with each punishing thrust. The headboard slams against the wall, the sound of skin on skin filling the room as he takes me like he owns me, his hands gripping my hips, pulling me onto him with every stroke.

“Fuck,” he growls against my throat, his breath ragged. “You feel so fucking good. So tight . So mine .”

“Yes,” I whimper, lost in the overwhelming pleasure, my nails raking down his back as I cling to him. “I’m yours. Always.”

That sets something off in him. His thrusts turn brutal, his control snapping as he fucks me harder, deeper, his name a desperate chant on my lips.

“Come for me, baby,” he demands, his voice dark, commanding. “I want to feel you squeezing my cock.”

His fingers find my clit, circling, pressing just right , and that’s all it takes. My entire body seizes, my orgasm slamming into me so violently I can’t even breathe, my walls pulsing around him as I cry out his name.

“Fuck,” Ryan groans, his body tensing as he drives into me one last time before his own release overtakes him. His cock throbs inside me, his grip bruising as he spills himself deep, groaning against my skin, holding me so tightly it’s like he’ll never let go.

We collapse onto the bed, our bodies tangled, damp with sweat, our breathing erratic.

Ryan pulls me against him, his strong arms wrapping around me like a shield, like I belong there. And as my body sinks into his, completely spent, I realize something.

I do belong here.

With him.

Always.

When we wake up a few hours later, we head to the arena for the first show. I’m practically buzzing with excitement, not just because of the show, but because Annika is finally going to be here. I haven’t seen her in days, and I can’t wait to show her around.

I’m in my office setting up for the night when she bursts through the door, her face lighting up with excitement. “Natalie!” she squeals, rushing over to hug me.

We hug tight, laughing, talking a mile a minute as we catch up. It feels so good to see her, and I can tell she’s just as excited to be here as I am to have her.

“I’ve got to introduce you to a few people,” I say, leading her through the hallways. We’re immediately stopped by Travis, who gives me a teasing look. “Natalie, aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?”

I introduce Annika, and she shamelessly flirts with him, batting her lashes and laughing at everything he says. I roll my eyes, but I’m smiling. Travis is eating it up. He loves the attention Annika is giving him, the way she is staring at his muscular arms.

“Come on,” I say, pulling her away. “We’ve got to get you to your seat. The show’s about to start.”

Annika is practically vibrating with excitement, her hands gripping my arm as we weave through the growing crowd. The deeper we go, the louder it gets—the roar of thousands of voices filling the air, a pulsing, electric hum of anticipation. The scent of popcorn, beer, and something fried lingers in the air, mixing with the faint hint of metal from the barricades lining the entrance.

As we step out onto the floor, the sheer size of the crowd hits us like a wave. Fans are everywhere, standing in their seats, waving handmade signs, some flashing with neon lights, others with bold letters screaming the names of their favorite wrestlers. The massive LED screens above the stage flicker with hype videos, the booming bass of the entrance music shaking the floor beneath our feet.

Annika grips my arm tighter, her mouth slightly open as she takes it all in. “Holy shit,” she breathes. “This is insane.”

I can’t help but grin. “It’s something else, huh?”

She nods, eyes darting from the colossal entrance ramp to the sea of fans decked out in merch, chanting, clapping, hyping themselves up for what’s about to come. The overhead lights dim suddenly, a ripple of energy rolling through the crowd like a live wire. Murmurs turn to cheers, an unspoken understanding that the show is about to begin.

We make it down to the front row, the barricade just feet from the ring. The mat inside the ropes looks pristine, the turnbuckles wrapped tight, the ropes glistening under the spotlights. The hum of the crowd is deafening now, like a living, breathing thing waiting to explode.

Annika finally tears her eyes away from the ring, turning to me with the widest grin I’ve ever seen on her face. “Why didn’t you tell me Travis was so cute?” she whispers, her voice barely audible over the noise.

I laugh, shaking my head. “Because I knew you’d do this.”

She elbows me playfully, but her eyes are still darting around, drinking in every inch of the scene before her.

I squeeze her hand before stepping back. “Enjoy the show,” I tell her, giving her a hug. “I’ll meet you back out here after the main event.”

She waves me off, barely able to contain herself. “Girl, I am fine. Look at this! I’m about to have the best night of my life.” She leans in, eyes gleaming. “Go do your thing, and don’t worry about me. Oh, and tell that delicious man of yours I say hello.”

I laugh again, shaking my head as I turn to leave, but the moment I step away, the reality of what’s ahead crashes over me.

Tonight, Ryan will be in that ring.

I’ll see him under the lights, in his element, doing what he was born to do. And somehow, despite the chaos of the arena, the thousands of screaming fans, and the magnitude of the night—he’ll still be mine.

And I can’t wait to watch him.