Page 17 of Sold to the Fighter

“Does it hurt?” I ask gently.

“Not anymore.”

We stare at each other in silence until she shyly drops her gaze.

“Has he always been that way?” I ask quietly.

Grace sighs. “Yes. Not as far back as I can remember, but I guess things kinda progressed over the years. He’s always been a religious person who gradually became a fanatic. When my mother was alive, she shielded me from him, so I didn’t know the extent of his cruelty.”

She lifts her gaze to mine and my chest tightens at the echoes of pain in her gorgeous green eyes. “He took everything away from me…my confidence, my self-worth. Sometimes, I wonder if he’s right and I’m unworthy of love.”

“No, baby, he’s wrong.” I gently cup her face in my palm, keeping my eyes locked on hers, hoping she feels my sincerity. “I love you.”

Grace’s eyes grow as huge as saucers. She opens her mouth and closes it again, swallowing nervously as a deep blush spreads across her features.

I chuckle, leaning forward to kiss her forehead. “You don’t need to say anything right away, sweetheart,” I say, smiling into her eyes. “We have forever to go.”

She chuckles even as a teardrop slips from her eyes. Then she surprises me by throwing her arms around my neck and pressing her body against mine in a tight hug. I wrap my arms around her, my heart swelling with an indescribable warmth.

So this is love? It sure is an incredible feeling.

“Thank you,” she whispers against my neck. “For everything.”

We remain silent for a long time, just soaking in the feeling of our bodies against each other and the unspoken emotions swirling between us.

“Can I ask you a question?” Grace asks, finally pulling away from the hug.

I nod at her with a small smile. “Yes, baby. Anything.”

“Fighting…” She hesitates. “Isn’t it dangerous?”

“It is.”

“Why do you still do it then? You have enough to retire now.”

“Are you scared for me, baby?” I ask, slowly running my thumb down her cheek to her plump lower lip…

“Yes,” she murmurs breathlessly, her cheeks rosy, her eyes never leaving mine. The thought of her lips around my cock suddenly steals my breath.

Fuck.

“You should be scared for my opponents, baby. You heard your dad—I either leave them dead or maimed.”

“That doesn’t make you invincible,” she mutters grumpily, a small frown marring her beautiful face. “It only means you’re in danger of being dead or wounded every time you’re in the ring.”

I swallow my smile. She looks so cute worrying about me that I don’t have the heart to tell her that the “ring” is really more like a slab with thick ropes surrounding it than an actual professional fighting space.

I pick up her small hands, bunch them into fists, and press kisses on them. “Wanna try punching me?” I ask, directing her fists to my cheeks, then my stomach.

Grace gapes. “What are you doing?”

“Come on, try. I have a feeling you punch like a girl.”

She laughs. “That’s because I’m agirl, silly.”

“So you agree your punch is weak?” I tease.

“That’s not true!”

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