Page 48 of Wreck Me

“Motherfucker,” Sebastian’s growl sounded.

I ignored it all and slammed my elbows down into the soft spots between the dickhead’s neck and shoulder blades. He cursed, his grip breaking around me. A knee to the gut got him out of my space, forcing him back.

Before he could make another move, I executed a spinning kick that clocked him across the side of the face.

He wavered and cursed me out again.

“Is that all you’ve got, kitten?” I called out, crooking my finger at him.

He bellowed, completely irate. “Fucking cunt!”

He ran at me again and I dodged another blow, my speed eclipsing his.

But then I caught a glimpse of a blade a moment before it sliced across my forearm, bloodying up my lotus tattoo.

I hissed and jumped back, sweeping my hand over the droplets of blood that were trickling down my skin within moments.

He’d cut pretty deep. Not enough to need stitches, something I knew all about.

That euphoria from earlier rolled through me, the sting and the blood, and the sight of him sporting that fucked-up bloodied nose and the scrape across the side of his face all colliding in a delicious tapestry of violence that fed that dark part of me.

As he went to lunge again, I snatched his knife-wielding wrist, spun into him, then delivered a chop to the inside of his arm that forced his grip to relinquish.

Then I tossed the blade across the ring.

He managed to snag my shoulder right after the toss, then he hauled me into the chain-link again.

As I bounced off it, his fist came at my face, connecting this time, blood exploding on my lip.

A knee to my gut and him yanking on my ponytail, had me slamming down onto one knee, throwing out my palm to stop a full-on crash.

He jerked on my hair, ripping strands out and making my scalp burn in the process, as he forced my gaze to his while he stood over me, looking mighty pleased with himself.

I swept my tongue over my dripping lip then smirked up at him through bloodied teeth.

He jolted at my reaction, not knowing what to do with it.

An animalistic snarl ripped from my throat, and then I was launching myself at him.

He was so shocked that he lost his grip on my ponytail.

I slammed into him, driving him down to the floor, then wailing on him, battering his face, his chest, his ribs.

When he tried to make a grab for me, I hooked my legs around his head, and twisted, trapping him in a headlock with my thighs in the next moment.

He struggled and tried to hit and claw at me, but the blunt force and the raw scrapes only took me deeper into that animal headspace.

I could feel him weakening against my grip, feel my power usurping his, feel his body giving in, submitting to me.

Thunderous roars and shouts sounded all around us.

I couldn’t tell if they were cheers or sounds of indignation that their prized fighter was at my mercy, being utterly dominated by me.

I didn’t fucking care.

I just wanted more.

More of this perverted shithead flailing under the force of my power.

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