Page 170 of Heartless Legacy

I take pleasure in seeing the shocked look on Pax’s face when he walks into the gym. Now he knows how I’ve felt all week. I keep my breathes even, my gait smooth as I run on the treadmill. Just because I’m working out here doesn’t mean I should skip steps in the routine Wolfe has created for me, even though Iwantto.

When my fifteen minute warm up ends, I head over to the weight rack and start my reps. My biceps are popping out and it’s not because I’m still emaciated. I’ve been putting on a steady amount of weight and muscle. Wolfe’s been strict about my nutrition, and has the patience of a saint. Actually, no, he doesn’t. He’s the most impatient person I’ve ever met. He’s got a low threshold for idiocy and is quickly irritated by students. So I guess that means he’s only patient with me, which makes him top tier in my book; because I am not, have not and will not, ever be an easy person to love. Which he does. He said it while buried deep inside me, but I don’t doubt his sincerity. His actions show it over and over again.

I finish my circuit on the weights and go to the ring to work on my footwork, watching myself in the mirror to make sure my form is correct. The hairs on the back of my neck prickle from the weight of Pax’s stare. A light sheen of sweat coats my skin.

I unzip my jacket. The cool air pebbles my nipples in my sports bra. I ignore that distracting bit of biology and settle deeper into my fighting stance. After a few more reps, I progress to kicks. They’re sloppy as hell, but my core strength is stronger and I’m starting to regain my balance.

Pax steps into the ring, leaning against the ropes watching me. Probably fixing his mouth to say some shit about my kicks. If he does, I’m pretty sure I can hold my balance long enough to kick him in the mouth. Or the dick. Either one should shut him up.

Just as I’ve convinced myself that standing there ogling me is all he’s going to do, he opens his mouth. I plant my feet and do what I told myself I’d do. I kick at him. I’m off balance. My roundhouse barely makes it to his chest, so I settle for his stomach. It lacks power, but it’s enough to catch him off guard and push him to the side.

He regains his balance and says, “That was a cute little baby kick. You looked like a newborn goat trying to find her legs.”

Cute, like a goat? I wasn’t that wobbly. I go for a spinning back kick, but he catches my foot and shoves me away. I hop a few times before regaining my footing. The asshole just laughs at me. “I don’t know what that was, but I don’t recommend you try it again unless you want to end up on your face.”

You know what? Being civilized isn’t working. Aiming so high is a mistake. I resort to good old basics, walk up to him and knee him in the nuts. I pat him on the head when he bends over and sneer, “Bet you recognize that move.”

I jump out of the way when he reaches for me, but I’m not quick enough to get completely clear of his big ass hands. He has a grip on my jacket, which I shrug off and dart to the other end of the ring. He’s glaring at me when he finally recovers enough to stand.

“That was a cheap shot, Nem.”

“Awe, does your little dick have a boo-boo?”

“You know how not little it is. But yes, it has a boo-boo. How about you come over here and kiss it to make it better?”

“If my lips are anywhere near it, I’ll bite it off.” I threaten, reminding him of my reputation of doing just that.

“Teeth aren’t always bad, but it sounds like you need a lesson on how and when to use them.”

I shift to my right, because he’s moving on his left. We circle the ring and each other, slow inch by slow inch. Then, like a viper, he springs at me. I narrowly miss his attack.

I throw up my hands to block his punch and he ducks, avoiding mine. We go back and forth, and I feel my body falling into a rhythm. Into the familiarity of his fighting style, but it’s also different from what I remember. He’s adopted a different stance, some new punches.

My muscles bunch and strain. I’m out of breath trying to find an opening. He’s determined not to give me one. We retreat to opposite sides of the ring, eyeing each other with animosity. The air is fraught with tension, then the band snaps, and we’re propelled forward.

We connect with snarling lips and vicious bites. He sweeps my legs and I grab his shoulders, rolling with the momentum, forcing him to fall with me. I land on top of him, and use my knees to pin his arms to his sides, and push against his shoulders to keep him in place.

Staring down at him, I study his face and listen to the thumping in my ears. I take note of that restless buzz still under the surface of my skin. I know exactly what I need to take the edge off. I reach between us with my left hand. The move catches him completely off guard.

I don’t have time for coy or games. I squeeze and pump his shaft, dragging my nails across it. He grits his teeth, but he doesn’t tell me to stop. I shove my pants off and spin around somy back is to him. I don’t need to see his face for this. I pull him out enough to handle my business. He doesn’t move or speak. That’s fine by me too.

I move slowly, getting used to the feel of him, rubbing my clit, making myself wetter. My walls clench around nothing as I drag back and forth across his length. I rock my hips, grinding against him, and close my eyes as I find a rhythm. I palm my breasts, squeezing and plucking my nipples through my bra and razorback tank. My head falls back with a moan as the sensation rolls through me.

One of his hands comes up to replace mine, the other one settles against my shoulder. I lean away, but he follows. “You think you’re just gonna block out that this cock you’re dripping all over is attached to me?”

“That’s the plan.” I huff, shrugging his hand off of me.

“Your plan is shit. If you wanna get off with my dick, you’re gonna recognize me as the person wrecking this pussy.”

I snort at his assessment. “It’s far from wrecked.”

He growls against my ear, “It will be by the time I’m done with it.”

I turn back around to face him, pushing him back against the floor. “No talking, asshole.” I say, pulling my panties to the side and climbing onto his face. I grip his hair as I arrange myself over his mouth. “You just lay there and let me mess up this pretty face.” I roll my hips. “Get to it. Big guy. Clean the plate.”

He complies, fingering me as he laps and sucks at me. I buck against him, mindless to the sensation. He is just so damn good at it. I’m not ready to cum yet. I want it to last. I pull back, but he grips my hip, holding me in place with one hand. The other plunges two thick fingers into me from behind. He hums against my clit. The sensation is almost too much and yet not enough.

A sound in the hallway causes me to jump. I fling myself off of Pax, looking to the door for the source of the noise. I don’t seeanything, but the distraction is enough to break through the fog and show me just how stupid my actions were. It’s one thing to come here and fight him. But if we get caught doing this. If I get caught doing this. It’s just asking for more trouble.

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