Page 18 of Sold to the Fighter

“Prove me wrong then.”

She hesitates, a small smile playing on her lips, then she bunches up her hand and rams her fist into my gut.

“Ah!” I exhale, pretending to grab my stomach.

“Oh God!” she gasps, her eyes growing wide with alarm. “I—I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to punch so hard.”

I snicker, then burst into a full-blown laughter as I watch the play of emotion on Grace’s beautiful face. Her lips twitch and she punches me playfully in the same spot. “It’s not funny,” she says, grinning widely at me.

I sit up and pull her into the space between my legs, her back against my chest. I drop my head to the crook of her neck, wrapping my arms around her waist. Then I close my eyes, letting her soft, flowery scent calm the storm rising in my soul.

“At first, fighting was a means of survival,” I say quietly, tightening my arms around her waist, anchoring myself. “Then it became a means of release. I had so many pent-up emotions, so much frustration eating me up from the inside. I was angry at the world for being so shitty, at my dad for giving up, at myself… Fighting was the only thing that kept me sane.”

She twists her neck to look at my face, her gaze soft and searching. “You’ve been fighting for a long time, Theo. Do you still feel…angry?”

“Not since I met you.”

A radiant smile spreads across her features. She turns around in my arms and gently presses her lips on mine in a chaste kiss. She starts to pull away, but I hold her in place and deepen the kiss, pushing my tongue past her lips into the welcoming warmth of her mouth. When we pull apart, we’re both breathing hard. I smile into her glazed eyes and then drop my gaze, letting my eyes roam over the luscious swell of her breasts before looking back up at her inquiringly.

“You were sad about your friend, and I wanted to do something to make you feel better. So, I tried to dress up for you,” she explains shyly.

“Well, we can’t let all that preparation go to waste, now can we?”

Chapter Nine

Grace

The bright morning rays shine over my closed eyes, pulling me from my deep sleep. As consciousness seeps in, memories of yesterday play through my mind. My father’s arrival and Theo’s confession of love. My heart soars in my chest, knowing that this big, hard man softens for me.

I love him too. I have from the moment he asked for my name. Yesterday, I was so shocked I couldn’t utter a word in response, because never in my wildest imagination did I think a man like Theo would love someone like me. But he meant it—I could see it in his eyes, feel it in his touch…

Last night, at the height of climax, when he’d whispered into my ear again that he loves me, I wanted to say it back. But something had held me back, a force bigger than me. The appearance of my father has shaken me more than I thought. Now, even though I know what’s real, I can’t shake the feeling that I’m unworthy of Theo. Or his love…

I know I shouldn’t feel this way, but I can’t help it. Somewhere in the back of my head, I can still hear my father’s voice, telling me how undeserving I am.

I turn to my side and slowly open my eyes, tired of my internal debate. I meet Theo’s tender gaze and my heart lurches in my chest. Ever since he made his feelings known, he has become softer and more open about it.

“Good morning,” I say, smiling at him.

“Morning, baby,” he replies, his eyes roaming over my face and body with a raw, visceral need.

“Why are you staring at me like you want eat me up?” I tease softly, grinning at his waggling brows.

“That’s because I want to eat you up, sweetheart,” he murmurs in a rumbling tone, then leans in to nip at my lower lip before soothing it with a lick.

He pulls me closer and tangles his hands around the curls of my hair, then slams his lips onto mine. The quiet strength in his movements makes known the intensity of his want. He deepens the kiss, tangling our tongues and sending bolts of pleasure into me with every stroke. I moan into his mouth, reaching out to press my hand into his hard chest as the kiss goes on and on, rendering me helpless to the sensations washing through me.

Theo slowly breaks the kiss, then trails his lips down to the sensitive arch of my neck, triggering my nerves. I shiver gently, moaning softly as my hands move of their own accord, trailing across his hard and sculpted flesh.

He stops and raises his head. “We need to do something about your hands, don’t we,” he says in his deep voice, triggering quivers in my sex as I imagine being restrained.

He climbs off the bed and heads for the closet. Seconds later, he walks out with a black tie. My breath hitches and goose bumps spread across my skin as he slowly crawls back onto the bed. He pulls my hands over my head and loops the tie expertly around my wrists. The act causes my back to arch, pushing out my breasts.

“Keep your hands above your head,” he orders, and my pussy floods in response.

“Yes, sir,” I moan, trembling softly under his darkening gaze.

“Hmm. Good girl. I have a present for you,” he growls, then climbs off the bed again.

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