Page 52

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The second I step out of the arena, the night air slams into me like a shock to the system, cool against my overheated skin. My lungs expand, dragging in deep, uneven breaths, but it’s not enough to steady the riot inside me. My muscles ache, my body is wrecked, but none of it matters.

I did it.

I fucking did it.

The UXW Heavyweight Championship is slung over my shoulder, its weight sinking into my muscles, but it’s a weight I welcome. It’s more than just gold and leather—it’s every sacrifice, every sleepless night, every drop of blood I’ve spilled in this ring. It’s years of grinding, of fighting through the pain when no one was watching, of clawing my way to the top because I refused to be anything less.

And now, I’m here.

The roar of the crowd still pulses through my veins, the echoes of their chants vibrating in my chest. Adrenaline still hums beneath my skin, refusing to settle. But out of everything I’ve gained tonight, the only thing I want—the only thing I need —is right beside me, her hand wrapped around mine.

Natalie.

She looks up at me with those aqua eyes, shining with pride, love, and something else—something dark and intoxicating that makes my pulse kick up all over again. She was there for all of it. She saw me fight; she saw me win. She’s mine.

And right now, all I want is to take her home and celebrate.

The ride back to the hotel is a blur. My fingers never stop touching her—tracing slow circles on her thigh, tangling in the silk of her hair, resting possessively on her bare knee. She leans into me, her body warm, soft, mine . Every stolen glance between us is thick with anticipation, every brush of skin a silent promise of what’s to come.

When we step into the suite, the dim glow of the city spills through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting everything in liquid gold. The skyline stretches endlessly beyond the glass, lights flickering like scattered embers against the night. The space is sleek and indulgent—deep mahogany furniture, plush cream-colored carpets, a massive king-sized bed draped in crisp, inviting sheets.

A low fire flickers in the modern fireplace, its flames dancing against the dark marble. Across the room, a bottle of champagne rests on ice near the minibar, condensation sliding down its chilled surface. Beside it, a sleek black envelope with the UXW logo embossed in silver.

But none of it matters. Not the view, not the champagne, not the luxury surrounding us.

The only thing I care about is her.

Natalie looks around and lets out a soft laugh. “Looks like someone planned ahead.”

I smirk, watching as she picks up the envelope and reads the card. “‘Congratulations, Champ. Enjoy the night—you’ve earned it.’” She looks over at me, raising a brow. “Care to share who left this?”

I shrug. “Probably management. Maybe Travis. Doesn’t matter.” I step closer, letting my hands settle on her waist, pulling her flush against me. “The only thing I care about right now is you. ”

She smiles, tilting her head up to kiss me softly. “Are you sure you don’t want to go out? Celebrate with everyone? This is a huge moment, Ryan.”

I slide my hands lower, gripping her ass and pressing her against me, making sure she feels exactly what I want.

“This—” I murmur against her lips, “—is all I need. You’re all I need.”

Her breath catches, her fingers curling into my shirt. “Ryan…”

“Drink your champagne, baby.” My voice is low, thick with intent. “Then I'll show you exactly how a champion celebrates.”

Her lips part, her eyes darkening as she swallows hard. She steps away, picking up the bottle and pouring two glasses, her hands steady, but I can see the way her chest rises and falls a little faster.

I take my time. Peeling off my shirt, kicking off my boots. By the time she turns around, I’m completely naked, the UXW Championship belt slung low around my hips, the heavy gold plate gleaming against my skin.

Natalie stops mid-step, her eyes dragging down my body, lingering on the belt. Her breath shudders out of her, and she visibly sways, like the sight of me like this is too much.

She barely whispers, “Holy shit.”

I smirk, resting a hand on the title. “Like what you see?”

She doesn’t answer—not with words. Instead, she drops to her knees right there, the champagne glass forgotten on the nearby table. My cock twitches at the sheer reverence in her gaze, at the way she bites her lip before reaching for me, her fingers tracing the edges of the belt.

“Look at you,” she murmurs, her voice dripping with admiration and something darker, something hungry. “My champion.”

I groan as her hands wrap around my cock, stroking slow, teasing, her nails dragging lightly along my length. Then she leans in, her breath hot against my skin. “Let me taste you.”

Fuck.

She doesn’t wait for permission—doesn’t need it. Her lips wrap around me, her tongue swirling as she takes me deep, and I swear I almost come right there.

“Baby—” My voice is a wrecked growl as my fingers thread into her hair, guiding her as she moves. She moans around me, the vibration sending shockwaves straight through me. She’s not just doing this—she’s worshiping me, savoring every inch, every sound I make.

I brace my hand against the dresser, my jaw tight, my control slipping. She works me over with perfect, sinful precision—tongue flicking, hollowing her cheeks, taking me all the way down.

Fuck, she’s good at this.

My vision blurs, my hips jerking forward as pleasure rips through me like a supernova. “Natalie, baby—” I try to warn her, try to pull back, but she just grips my thighs, holding me in place.

And then I’m gone.

A growl tears from my throat as I come, pulsing hot and deep into her mouth. She takes it all, every last drop, swallowing greedily before licking her lips, looking up at me with a smug little smile.

I breathe hard, staring down at her, completely wrecked. “Fuck, baby.”

She wipes the corner of her mouth with her thumb, smirking up at me. “Was that good for you, Champ? ”

I let out a rough laugh, shaking my head. “You have no idea.”

Before she can say another word, I grab her, lifting her off the floor with ease and tossing her onto the bed. She squeals, landing against the sheets, wide-eyed and breathless.

I crawl over her, my championship belt still slung low around my hips, the cool metal brushing against her bare thigh.

Her lips part, her breath hitching. “So, what happens now?”

I smirk, pinning her wrists above her head. My mouth grazes her ear as I whisper—

“ Now? I make sure you never forget who this title belongs to.”

The rest of the night is a blur of tangled sheets, desperate moans, whispered confessions, and slow, aching pleasure. We don’t stop. I don’t want to stop.

Because this isn’t just sex. This is more. So much more.

She’s mine. And I’m hers.

By the time the sun starts creeping through the windows, she’s curled against me, her fingers tracing lazy patterns over my chest. I kiss the top of her head, my arms tightening around her.

Everything I’ve fought for, everything I’ve sacrificed, has led me here. To this moment. To her.

I finally have it all.

The championship. The career. The woman I love.

And for the first time in my life, I know with absolute certainty—

Nothing can take this away from me.

Nothing.