Page 47 of Gift from the Stone

Mirrors spread across the wall in front of us, gives me the perfect view of Tillman’s body as he tilts his head back and chugs down a bottle of water. I have no clue why he’s thirsty. I’m the only one working up a sweat, but regardless, I can’t help but stare, watching as his throat contracts and relaxes with every gulp.

The golden contours of his neck muscles, like ridges of sand dunes, move in sync with every swallow. Before tearing my eyes away so I don’t get caught ogling his body, I linger on his broad chest that expands in and out with every breath, causing his abs to flex and tighten on every exhale.

Fuck, he’s a gorgeous piece of art.

Reflected in the mirrors behind my sprawled-out body is a perfect miniature replica of the training gym at the academy. An array of differently weighted dumbbells, from itty-bitty for me to tree trunk size for ruthless gym nuts like Tillman, stretch across the back wall. Wooden weapons, punching bags, battle ropes, an obstacle course, and too much more are spread out across the whole area, sectioned off by the type of torture he intends to inflict on me.

“This is not going to affect your air element whatsoever. It’s hand-to-hand combat. Get up and get over it. Again,” he orders.

“Fine,” I whine, rolling to my stomach, groaning as I push myself up.

Heat flaring between my chest, where my Memoria stone stays tucked, steals my attention as I get into position. As soon as I call my magic forth, a dull thud beats in my head and a sharp sting starts to spread across every muscle in my body, only to fade away a second later, leaving a focused haze trying to take over my senses.

I shake my head out and look up just in time to see Tillman charging straight for me. Mentally, I want to dodge him, not willing to be flung to the mat again, but my body has a mind of its own.

He jabs out and my fist flies up, guarding my face, my body crunches to the side, and my forearm blocks his shot.

Lightning fast, I strike out, barely brushing his ribs as he expertly dodges out of the way, but enough it catches us both by surprise. Moments pass as we stand in stunned silence, the air starting to hang heavy with anticipation. His calculating eyes take me in as he starts to circle me, and I never let my gaze leave his, watching, waiting.

Suddenly, he launches a series of swift jabs, testing my reflexes. Although I’m nowhere near as graceful as him, I pair each blow with newfound agility, my muscles responding to the rhythm of his attacks. The mats beneath our feet soak up the sound of our swift movements, Tillman striking, me blocking, round and round we go.

He switches it up, yelling out boxing combos, trying to throw me a curve ball. “Right hook, left hook, duck. Jab-right uppercut, duck.” Over and over, he tosses out commands.

A bead of sweat trickles down my brow as I absorb the knowledge, absorb his guidance, and my body begins to move with a grace that belied my earlier struggles.

Memories of my stranger training me this same way in the clearing around my tree start to filter through my mind as I continue to execute every command Tillman yells out. I can remember them forcing me to train for hours in the evenings, offense, defense, hand-to-hand with and without elements, you name it. They made me work on it. I’m nowhere near the level Tillman is on. I have a long way to go before that, but I’m not as helpless as I thought.

We seamlessly fall into a sparring match as he quits calling out commands and begins delivering strike after strike. My eyes are focused on his body, the way he flows through the moves effortlessly despite his massive build. And it fills me with determination to finally grasp the techniques he’s been drilling into me.

In a moment of perfect synchrony, he lunges forward, and I sidestep. With a fast pivot, I spin around and deliver a flawless fucking leg sweep, if I say so myself.

Time seems to slow as his feet fly from under him, his body hitting the mat with a deafening crash. Clarity returns to my senses milliseconds later. The haze of the Memoria stone lifts, and the realization of what just happened boils over into excitement.

Jumping on Tillman, straddling his hips, I cheer my victory.

“Holy shit, did you see me? I was ducking and bobbing, then I actually knocked you off your—” I let out a small grunt as my back slams onto the mat, Tillman’s body looming over me.

My legs lift automatically, wrapping around him as his mouth collides with mine. I run my fingernails across the veins that snake across his forearms, letting them linger as I relish in the power of his sculpted strength, and his muscles ripple beneath my hands as I continue my exploration.

He slows his kiss, just as my hands start tracing the chiseled bricks that form his core. Rocking his body into mine, I buck my hips, trying to grind myself against the hard outline of his enormous cock that’s teasing me, just shy of where I need it.

“Will.”

“Touch me.”

His element coats my body, sending a soothing shiver down my spine, disintegrating my clothes in its wake. I gasp as cool air brushes across the wetness dripping down my thighs and my nipples harden as they’re freed from the restraints of my sports bra.

“I refuse to bond my Primary on mats in a fucking gym,” he growls, running his nose down the valley between my breasts. “But I’ll reward you for doing so good.”

Fuck. Me.

Out of my Nexus, I seek out Tillman’s approval the most. He doesn’t show his pride or give out compliments for the sake of making people happy. So the praise in his voice has my body a trembling mess, begging for his attention.

Teasing one nipple with his fingers, he sucks the other into his mouth, scraping his teeth across it in the best fucking way. When he slides his free hand down my body, cupping my pussy, the groan he releases vibrates me to my core as he realizes I’m soaked for him.

With no warning, he shoves his finger in me, dragging and curling it up as he goes, and a depraved moan rips from my throat as I clench around him.

“Fuck, you’re so wet, Will. I need to taste you.”

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