Page 11 of Born into Mayhem
She hikes a hand on her hip. “Oh my god, you’re so invasive. You want to know why I’m so sore?”
“Yes.” I grind the word out, barely keeping my temper in check.
When she talks, it’s slow, like I’m an idiot who needs the extra time to process what she’s saying. “I was on my period, and it was really heavy this month with bad cramps. Better?”
I run my eyes over her, not buying her bullshit for a second. “You’ve never missed training for that before. Did you fuck someone?”
Her mouth opens in surprise before she gets control of herself and clamps it shut in a firm, pissed-off line. “None of your fucking business,” she hissesat me.
“Is that why you’re sore?” I ask again, refusing to just let this go. Thinking about her with someone else makes me angrier than I thought possible, but knowing that he could’ve possibly hurt her so badly that she’s still sore over a week later has me shaking with rage. “Did someone hurt you?”
She meets my eyes long enough to say, “No one hurt me. I’m fine.”
“No one is allowed to touch you,” I say. “If someone hurt you, Mia…” I stop, letting the words hang between us.
“You’ll what?” she asks.
I don’t bother lying. Instead, I take a step closer and say, “I will fucking gut the bastard and give him a very slow death.”
I should’ve known a threat like that would only spur Mia on. A sane woman would want space, but not her. She takes a step closer, leaving nothing but a few inches between us, and when her hazel eyes look up and meet mine, there’s not a shred of fear in them. She’s gotten bolder since she turned eighteen, and I’ve been trying my damnedest to ignore it, to convince myself that I’m just seeing things, but there’s no pretending the dark look she’s giving me is anything other than what it is—pure, raw need.
My cock starts to stiffen, and I grit my teeth, willing it to stay down. As if she can sense the war going on inside my body, she smirks and runs her eyes over me. “Everything okay, Dario?”
I hiss out a long stream of Italian when she reaches out and runs her finger along the scar she gave me. “Careful,streghetta,” I warn her, but she just smiles even bigger when she hears me call her little witch in Italian. It’s a good thing that’s the only word she understands because I just gave her an earful about how badly I want to bend her over and fuck her while she hugs the bag she’s been attacking for the last hour.
“Remember when I gave you this?” She runs her nail up the long scar, taunting me with her touch and the memory of her besting me.
“Vividly.”
She smirks and taps her nail against my skin. She keeps them short so they won’t get in the way when she fights, but she regularlychanges out the paint color. Today it’s a bubblegum pink, the same shade as the highlights in her hair. My eyes can’t help but run along her neck. The T-shirt she’s wearing is loose enough to give me a glimpse of the dragon tattoo that runs along her spine. I can see the edges of it peeking out along her shoulder. That goddamn tattoo is going to be the death of me. When she trains in her sports bras, I’m able to see a lot more of it, but I’ve never gotten an unobstructed view, and I’ve fantasized about seeing it more times than I want to admit.
“We’re not done yet,” I remind her, but she keeps running her finger along my inner arm, and every second with her skin on mine is making it harder for me to keep control of myself. “Punch the fucking bag, Mia.” My tone is harsh, my words clipped, but she just gives me another devilish grin, letting her nails run along my skin one last time before finally stepping back and turning to face the other way again. I refuse to let her hear the sigh of relief I give, but I do hurry up and adjust my cock so she can’t see how hard I’m getting. The waistband of my sweats is a temporary fix, but if I’m careful the T-shirt I’m wearing will hide me enough to not be painfully obvious.
“How about we spar?” She keeps her tone light, but I hear the challenge in it.
“Probably not a good idea since you’re so sore,” I remind her.
“Give me a fucking break,” she mutters, already heading to the corner to get the blunt aluminum knives we use for training. She grabs two and then walks back over to me, holding one out by the blade so I can wrap my fingers around the handle.
Before she lets go, she raises a brow at me and says, “I didn’t drop my guard in that video I sent you.”
I don’t give anything away with my face, but she senses my amusement when I say, “You sure about that?”
Before she can answer, I pull the knife away and take a few steps back, letting her take the lead and attack when she’s ready. She doesn’t make me wait long. Mia still needs to learn patience, but there’s no denying she’s a force to be reckoned with when she’s going in for thekill. Her movements are fast, well-placed, and there’s a lot of pent-up rage behind them.
We’ve been working on different knife grips and how to switch between them, so I’m not surprised when she wraps her fingers around the handle in a hammer grip to come in for a slash, but then quickly switches to a reverse grip with the edge of the blade facing out, aiming for a deep cut along my lower stomach. Before she can make contact, I invade her space and pin her against my body.
“You’ve been practicing,” I say, tightening my grip when she tries to break the hold I have on her. With one hand around her neck and the other pinning her arms in place, she’s not going anywhere.
“Not hard enough apparently,” she growls, clearly pissed off about her current predicament.
I can feel the rapid beat of her heart against my fingers, rabbit fast and sexy as hell as her chest rises and falls with her heavy breaths. My cock swells at having her so close, mocking my sad attempt at trying to restrain it with my waistband and pressing firmly against her back. It’s not the first time I’ve gotten hard while training her, but it’s the first time she’s ever been aware of it. I know the second she feels me, though, because her breath hitches right before her entire body softens and melts into my touch.
It only lasts a second before she gets control of herself. While I’m sidetracked thinking about how good her body feels pressed against mine, she whips her head back, hitting me in the nose and pulling a grunt from my shocked body. My grip loosens as blood pours from my nose, and she takes full advantage of it, showing me no mercy as she clamps her mouth onto my forearm and bites hard.
“Fuck!” I growl in Italian, all the English flying right out of my head when she lets go and I see the bloody imprint she’s left on me.
Easily backing away, she points the knife at me and grins. With her lips and teeth covered in my blood and adrenaline coursing through her, she looks every bit like her unhinged brother.
