Page 18 of Big Wild Fighter

“You have no idea how bad I’ve wanted this,” I murmur, my voice low and rough as I trail kisses along her jaw and down the curve of her neck.

“Then show me,” she whispers, her breath hitching as my lips brush against the hollow of her throat.

My hands find the hem of her dress, bunching it up as I slide it higher. Her skin is smooth under my touch, her thighs parting slightly to welcome me closer. I can feel her trembling,her breaths coming in shallow bursts as I grip her hips and pull her flush against me.

I press my forehead to hers for a moment, needing to anchor myself in the overwhelming intensity of the moment. Her eyes meet mine, dark and full of trust, and it’s all the encouragement I need.

My lips find hers again, this time slower, deeper, savoring every second. Her hands move from my shoulders to my chest, her fingers tracing the lines of muscle, brushing against the fresh bruises from the fight.

“Does it hurt?” she asks, her voice barely a whisper.

I smile at her, the warmth of her concern almost overwhelming in the best way. “Not when you’re touching me,” I reply, my voice soft but sincere, and I see her cheeks flush with the honesty in my words. There’s something in the way she looks at me, like I’m the only person in the world who matters to her. It makes me feel like I’m the luckiest man alive.

Her hands trail lower, exploring with a curiosity that sends a jolt of electricity through me. When she reaches my waistband, she hesitates for only a moment before slipping beneath it with a confidence that surprises me. The cool air of the locker room contrasts with the heat building between us as she grips me, her touch firm and sure. The sensation of her hand around me, warm and inviting, makes my breath catch.

She strokes me once, then again, and the groan that escapes me is involuntary, a raw sound of pleasure that I can’t hold back. The sensation is too much, but in the best way. Her touch is bolder now than it was a few months ago, more sure ofherself, more certain of what she wants. The quiet confidence she exudes only ignites the fire inside me, a fire that burns away any lingering restraint. Her hips shift against mine, the friction sending a rush of blood to my head.

I lift her effortlessly, feeling her legs wrap around my waist, instinctively pulling her closer, deeper, until her body is flush against mine. My hands are at her back, supporting her as I press her against the cool lockers, and there’s no thought in my head, only the need to be as close to her as possible. In one smooth motion, I push her panties to the side, my hands shaking slightly with anticipation as I line myself up.

When I finally enter her, it’s like everything falls into place. The feeling of her around me is almost overwhelming, like I’ve found a piece of myself I didn’t know was missing until now. Her nails dig into my shoulders, and I can’t help but groan at the sweet pain.

Her breath hitches, and the sounds she makes as I move inside her are more than just pleasure. The intensity of it leaves me dizzy, like I’m falling without a net, but I don’t care. There’s no part of me that doesn’t want this, want her.

“Grace,” I whisper her name like a prayer, my voice breaking as I kiss her again. My hips move with a steady rhythm, deeper, harder, and with every thrust, I pour everything I can’t say into the movement, into the way I touch her, into the way we are, in this moment, just us.

Her lips part as she breathes out a soft moan, her body reacting to me with a need that mirrors my own. Her hands tug at my hair, pulling me closer, and I lose myself in the taste of her mouth, in the warmth of her skin. There’s nothing else in theworld. No fights, no future concerns, no lingering doubts. Just the feeling of her, of us, moving together in perfect sync.

The intensity of the moment is building, spiraling out of control, and it’s almost too much, but it feels like the only thing that matters. The world outside this locker room doesn’t exist anymore. It’s just us, locked in this perfect, fleeting moment of heat and hunger.

I press into her, deeper, if possible, and she meets me with equal force, her body responding to mine with a desperate need that matches my own. I can feel her tremble against me, the way her body tightens around me, and I know she’s close. I push her higher, coaxing her toward that edge with every thrust, but I don’t want to let go—not yet.

Her mouth opens in a silent gasp, her pleasure taking her by surprise, and I feel her muscles tighten around me, the sensation pushing me to the brink. I lean into her, kissing her once more, a kiss filled with all the passion I’ve held back, and I let go. Her body clutches me like a vice, and I come inside her, the release crashing over me in waves, overwhelming in its intensity.

When we finally break apart, both of us are breathing hard, her forehead resting against mine. Her fingers brush against my cheek, her touch soft, almost reverent.

“You’re everything,” I murmur, my voice thick with emotion.

She smiles, her lips red and swollen from our kisses, and I know in that moment that I’ll fight a thousand more battles if it means I get to come back to her.

Epilogue

Eight Years Later

Grace

Running away with Marlon all those years ago was the best decision I ever made. I didn’t realize until I left Cherrywood Village that I was settling in life. My existence, though comfortable, was boring. I only talked to people with the same viewpoints as me, and I hardly ever met anyone new. If it weren’t for the experiences I had while living with Marlon, I don’t think that I’d be as good of a mom as I am now.

I got pregnant with our first baby, Lee, while Marlon was fighting in his last round of competition. As soon as he won his last title, he decided to retire, and we bought our first house in the country about an hour away from Cherrywood Village. We both agreed that being close to my parents would be nice as we started our journey into parenthood.

Shortly after Lee’s first birthday, I found out I was pregnant with our second child, a girl that we named Susie. While raising two kids so close together in age was hard, Marlon’s an ideal partner. The kids love him, and so do I. And I find myself loving him more and more every single day.

The kids are both finally in elementary school, and now the two of us are finding it hard to fill in our childfree days. We both get up with them in the morning, helping with showers and breakfast and packing lunches, then we take turns driving them to their school twenty-five minutes away.

It’s Marlon’s turn to take care of school drop-off, so I take the opportunity to get back in bed. It’s nice to get an extra hour of sleep on these days. Having two young kids means that sleeping in is a luxury we aren’t often afforded.

It doesn’t take me long to drift off. Marlon and I had a late night, the two of us taking advantage of the quiet hours when the kids are asleep to have an evening of fun. I think the only thing I miss from the time before we had kids was being able to have sex whenever we want. We make it work, though.

I’m not sure how long I’ve been asleep before I wake up completely gripped by pleasure. It takes me a few seconds to get my bearings and realize what’s going on. Marlon’s head is nestled between my thighs, and his tongue is lapping against my clit.

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