Page 116 of His Juliet

I smacked her hard on the ass. “That’s right.”

“Good thing your girlfriend has agoraphobia,” she said. At my confused expression, she clarified. “Because I never leave the apartment.”

I stared at her, and she rolled her eyes. “Well, it’s not a funny joke if I have to explain it.”

My lips curved into a smile. “You’re very funny, baby.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Let’s get this show on the road. What moves do you have to show me?”

“Let’s start by getting out of a simple hold. If someone grabs your wrist, bring your arm up or down in the direction of their thumb. That’s the weakest part of their hold and your best chance at breaking it.”

My hold on her wrist was firm but not hard, nothing like what it would be if someone were actually trying to grab her. An enraged, unsettled feeling clawed through my chest at the idea of someone hurting Juliet, and I vowed I would ensure she never needed to use any of these skills.

Still, it was smart for her to know the basics. Especially with the lives we lived.

The life I had brought her into.

She practiced getting out of my hold several times.

“What’s next?” she asked, eyes bright.

I put on a couple of strike pads on my arms. “We’re going to practice blocking hits. I’ll bring the pad towards your head and you bring your arm up to block it.” She nodded seriously and gave it a try. It took a few minutes for her to get into a good rhythm, but with every move she grew more confident and I realized another benefit of these lessons—to help Juliet to feel strong. Powerful.

We transitioned to getting out of holds from behind. “If a dangerous man comes up behind you”—I ran my hands down her front, pressing my face to her hair—“you need to know how to get away.”

She arched back against me, her head resting on my shoulder. “What if I don’t want to get away?”

I chuckled, my hand trailing across her breasts until it settled at the base of her throat. “You want to turn this into a game?” I tightened my grip, and she let out a breathy moan.

“Yes.”

“How about this—if you’re a very good girl and practice your skills enough to get away, I’ll eat that sweet pussy until you come at least twice.”

“And if I’m not a good girl?”

I leaned down and nipped the side of her neck. “Then I’ll put you on your knees and fuck your pouty lips until you gag.”

Her grip on my arm tightened and her round ass ground against my rock-hard cock.

“Oh, my naughty girl likes that, does she?” I cupped her pussy and lifted up so most of her weight rested on my hand. She was damp even through her leggings.

“Romeo,” she whined.

“What, angel?”

“I need to come.”

I released her pussy with a few firm pats. “Well then, you better pay attention to your teacher.” I used my grip on her hips to turn her to face me, fighting to keep a straight face at her vicious scowl. I bopped her on the nose. “Use that frustration,” I said with a wink.

She let out a growl and then she lunged at me, throwing her weight against my chest and shoving.

I didn’t budge an inch, which only made her let out a frustrated scream. I couldn’t stop myself from laughing as I wrapped my arms around her and took us to the floor, making sure my body broke our fall. She fought to get out of my hold, arms and legs flailing. Her elbow hit a still-tender spot on my ribs and I grunted, loosening my grip.

“Wait, did I hurt you?” she asked, stopping her retreat.

“Baby,” I said, exasperated. “You’re trying to get away from me.”

“Yeah, but I don’t want to hurt you.”

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