Page 22 of Between Power and Passion

"Wow!" I run my fingers along the smooth leather of one of the punching bags.

Dmitri shrugs out of his jacket, rolling his shoulders. "We make do with what we have. Now, let me see those self-defense skills you mentioned."

I nod, suddenly feeling self-conscious. I shift into a basic fighting stance and raise my fists defensively. Dmitri circles me slowly, assessing my form.

"Not bad," he concedes. "But your footing is off. You're too rigid." He steps behind me, his solid frame pressing against my back as he adjusts my stance with firm hands on my hips. "Relax. You need to be light on your feet and ready to move in any direction."

I try to focus on his instructions, but the warmth of his body against mine is incredibly distracting. His breath ghosts along the side of my neck.

"Now," he says. "What if someone grabs you from behind like this?"

Before I can react, his arms encircle me, pinning my own arms to my sides in a tight grip. I instinctively struggle against his hold, but Dmitri is much more stronger than I am, so it feels as if I’m fighting against a rock.

"Easy," he murmurs. "Don't waste your energy fighting against a stronger opponent head-on. You should use their own force against them."

He shows me how to shift my weight and twist my body to break free from the hold.

"Again," he commands, and I comply, practicing the move over and over until the movements become ingrained in my muscle memory.

With each repetition, Dmitri's grip grows tighter, his body pressing harder against mine. I can feel the solid planes of his chest against my back, the heat of his skin searing through the thin fabric of my tank top.

"Good," he praises. "Now, let's try something a little more... advanced."

He spins me around to face him, and before I can catch my breath, he lunges forward, capturing my wrists in an iron grip and pinning them above my head against the wall.

My heart hammers in my chest as I find myself trapped between the hard surface and the unyielding strength of his body. Dmitri looms over me, his face mere inches from mine, and I can see the flecks of gold in his eyes, the sharp angles of his jawline.

"What now?" he challenges.

I swallow hard, my mouth suddenly dry. I can't think straight, and I can't remember a single defensive move.

Dmitri's gaze drops to my parted lips, and his jaw tightens. Slowly, he leans in. His breath fans across my face in a tantalizing caress.

"Valentina," he rasps. "What would you do?"

I kiss him. It's a fierce declaration, a claiming of my own. I pour every ounce of my desire into that kiss, and Dmitri responds with the same urgency. His grip on my wrists tightens, and he presses me harder against the wall, our bodies pressed together from chest to thigh.

He groans into my mouth, and for a moment, all thought flees as sensation takes over. My senses are overwhelmed by the feel of his lips, the taste of him, the scrape of his unshaven jaw against my skin.

I twist my hands in an attempt to free them from his grip, needing to touch him, to feel the solid muscles of his biceps flexing under my palms. He releases my wrists, and I immediately snake my arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

With a low growl, he deepens the kiss, taking possession of my mouth with a raw hunger. It's intoxicating, this unleashed passion between us.

Eventually, I pull away, breathless, my eyes searching his face. His eyes smolder with a fierce intensity as he stares down at me.

"Is that enough?" I ask, a cheeky smile tugging at my lips. I've kissed him before, but this... this was different. This was raw and primal.

He smirks, his eyes glittering with a wicked light. "Yes, if your opponent is me."

Before I can respond, he captures my lips again. His mouth is demanding, possessive, as if he's claiming every inch of me.

Dmitri's hands slide down my arms, and he pulls me tighter against him, as if it were possible to get any closer.

I feel his need, his desire, and it ignites my own. With a desperate moan, I part my lips, inviting him in.

As we kiss, my mind clouds with want. I've never felt like this before—it's as if I need him to survive, as if breathing him in is the only way to keep myself alive.

Dmitri finally tears his mouth from mine, both of us panting. He searches my eyes, his gaze intense and full of unspoken words.

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