7. Blakely
The airin the dojo is heavy with the scent of sweat and exertion. The place is deserted, with only a handful of people around. After today, I had to blow off some steam. And what better way than kicking Tim’s arse? My stress level is through the roof between the meeting with Caleb and multiple phone calls to Paris. Even though I transferred some of my cases to my most trusted colleague, I’m still an associate, which means I still have duties, even out of the country.
“Focus.” I hear Tim’s raspy voice. I’m completely out of breath at this point. We’ve been training for hours. Or at least it feels like it.
“I am. Give me more to work on if you want me to be focused. You’re literally fighting like I’m a fragile wee thing.”
Tim and I have been training together for years now. He was the one to introduce me to martial arts. It’s funny to see how things changed. I used to hate going to the gym or going to the dojo with Scott and Aidan, mostly because I knew my weight would be a problem, and I didn’t feel comfortable. Who wants to feel like a big, sweaty pig with her thighs rubbing against each other? But when I moved to Paris and had my first call from Caleb asking me to help him with some issues he had with his business, he left me no choice but to learn how to defend myself.
And not without reason. I stepped into his world, and it was far from being shiny. That’s when he sent Tim to train me. From that moment on, I noticed a shift in my personality and thought processes. I tried many things. Boxing, Aikido, Taekwondo, Jiu-Jitsu, Karate, Kung Fu, and more. My preference is when we mix all of them together. That’s kind of our thing.
“Or maybe I surpassed the master?” I tease him with a smirk.
“Never,” he replies, putting himself in position. “Your kicks are still too low.”
Without waiting, I bring my leg higher, hitting him right on his ribs. He lets out a groan. I rotate on myself and take the opportunity to grab his arm from behind, bringing it towards the middle of his back. His groan grows louder, but I’m not done with him yet. With a swift hit to the back of his knee, I bring him down to the ground, and with my weight on top of him, he falls onto the tatami.
“You were saying?” I beam with pride.
Tim is what you’d call a beast. He’s a giant of a man, towering over 6’5” and weighing at least 20 stone of pure muscle. He taught me how to use my strength despite my size, and it has paid off after years of training. Or maybe this was my lucky day because I know it won’t happen again anytime soon.
“Alright, alright. You win. Damn, girl, what did you eat this morning?” he teases, which makes me chuckle.
“Did she really kick your arse, or am I seeing things?” I turn over to see Scott’s huge smile on his face. “Since when do you know how to fight, wee sis? I have to say I’m impressed. And fucking proud of you,” he adds, taking me in his arms.
“I’m all sweaty,” I say with a smile.
Scott and Aidan have been practising martial arts since they were 12, so finding him here is no surprise. At 36, my brother is built like an Adonis. Aye, I’m biassed, he’s my brother. With his back tattoo and his 6’2” frame, I’m surprised he’s still single.
I love my brother. It’s not his fault if he has a dickhead for a best friend. Speaking of the devil, I look over his side and see Aidan watching us with an intrigued eye. A very shirtless Aidan.
“Since when do you know each other?” asks my brother. I shrug at his question. “Because it doesn’t look like it’s the first time you trained together.”
The question is legit, given that Tim and my brother are part of Aidan’s team. Yeah, I know a lot of things, and I know exactly what they’re doing. Too bad for them, I’m a damn good lawyer, which makes their lies funny to hear.
“Hmm, we’ve trained a few times together since I’ve been back,” I lie. Aidan’s glare bores into me like a hot knife.
It’s impossible to know what he’s thinking right now. I used to know every bit of his body language, but the person standing before us is not the same man I loved. I guess we’re both different.
I try to regain myself and ask my brother, “What are you doing here? I thought you had plans for tonight?”
“We’ve been training on the other side,” he says, pointing to the opposite side of the room. “I didn’t see you until now. I can’t believe you always refused to come to the dojo with us, and here you are, a badass bringing Big T to his knees.”
I hear Aidan’s laughter before he shifts his attention to Tim.
“Maybe you lost your fighting skills,” he tells him.
“Fuck off, Preston,” says Tim, taking a sip from his water bottle.
“What? Because you think you can do better than him?” I ask, my patience wearing thin.
He glances at me with a smirk. Ugh, that smirk. I’ve always been a sucker for it.
No, he is an arsehole. He broke your heart.
“Yeah, I think I can do better. Afraid I’ll kick your arse? Promise, I’ll go gentle on you.” Damn him and his arrogance.
“Alright then, let’s see what you’ve got. But don’t go cry to Daddy because you got hurt.”
“Okayyy, I think that’s my cue to leave. I have shit to do. Please don’t kill each other. No one’s left to clean up the blood,” Scott says, gesturing towards the room. And, indeed, the dojo is completely empty now, with the exception of us.
“Aye, I have to go as well. Be good, princess,” Tim adds, kissing the top of my head.
I swear I can see steam coming out of Aidan’s nostrils at the mention of Tim’s nickname for me. As I settle into position, I can feel the anger burning in my chest, ready to be unleashed.
“Ready?” I ask once everyone leaves.
“Tink. You don’t know how ready I am.”
And with that, I strike. Going for his abdomen first, I launch my leg right in the middle. He tries to grab my leg, but I’m faster. I recover and go straight for his upper arm, but he blocks me.
“I’ve got to say, you got it in you. This anger of yours makes you beautiful,” he says, out of breath.
“You have no clue how angry I am,” I spit out.
“I don’t?” he asks, raising his eyebrow before launching himself at me and tackling me to the floor.
I’m completely stuck beneath him.
“No, you don’t,” I snarl. I try to escape through the side, but he doesn”t budge. Ugh. “You hurt me. I have eight years of resentment towards you.”
“Sometimes things are not what they seem to be,” he says before releasing me, presenting his hand to help me stand up. I ignore him.
What the fuck does that mean?
“Are they not?” My laugh is hysterical. “Because I know what I saw.”
Something passes in his eyes. Regret? Hurt?
“As I said, sometimes things are not what they seem to be. It’s more complicated than you realise.” He sighs. “Are we going to chit-chat, or do you intend to lash out your anger at me, Tink?”
I put myself back into position, my two hands in front of me, when I notice the smile on his handsome stupid face. Arsehole.
We go back and forth without anyone having the upper hand. We’re both breathing loudly. I step forward, always keeping my two feet steady, but he’s faster this time. He grabs my arm and brings it to my back. I’m completely stuck as he presses his body against mine, whispering in my ear.
“I think you’re stuck, Tink. Better give up now.” My breathing is shallow. And his breath on my neck makes me remember what it was like to be beneath him.
Nope, this is not the time to be aroused by him.
Keeping that in mind, I free myself, rotating to the other side, and apply the same movement I used to bring Tim to his knees.
It doesn’t work. What the fuck. It should have worked.
“Nice try, princess. But that won’t work on me.”
So, I was right earlier. He heard that, and he didn’t like it. Too bad for him. I try another technique and bingo. I can feel him shatter as my leg intertwines with his, which makes him fall on his back. To block him, I climb onto him, my legs on each side of his waist. Bad idea. His breathing matches mine, and we are completely out of breath. I move my hips to get a better position, and I feel his two hands on my waist. What is he doing?
“You won.” His deep green eyes bore into mine. I’m still trying to catch my breath, but I don’t know if it’s from the fight or the fact that his hands progress slowly higher than they should be.
“What did you expect?” I ask, my voice raspy.
He locks his hands lower and, without any notice, switches our position. He’s now on top of me. One hand is close to my head, while the other one is still on my hips. My breathing is superficial, and that’s not because of the fight anymore.
He’s too close, way too close. I’m still angry at him, but my body doesn’t get the memo. It craves his touch. He leans closer, and I shift uncomfortably.
“I expected a lot of things. But seeing this feisty version of you makes me want to know what else changed.” His hand leaves my hip to go higher. I have completely lost all my abilities to move. Shocker. It’s like I’m back eight years ago. Controlless, at his mercy, and completely hypnotised by the green of his glare. “Do you still like to bake? Do you still do that thing with your lips when you read one of your dirty books? Are you still sassy in bed?” His hand rises with each subsequent question, reaching higher and higher.
I try to compose myself and not show how much I’m aroused right now. It’s not his question. It’s his voice. He always had this gravelly, deep voice, which was enough to make me wet.
“I’m afraid that’s something you’ll never know,” I reply, trying to be confident.
His hand slightly touches the side of my breast, which makes me gasp. The bastard smirks. He smirks. He parts my legs, and I feel his weight fully between them. He continues the same process with my thigh, his touch sending shivers down my spine. He slides his other hand up my thigh until it reaches the front of my leggings. I attempt to move, but he blocks me.
“What are you doing? Let go of me.” But this guy is built like a fucking wall and doesn’t budge. He brings his lips to my ear, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Do you really want me to let go, or do you want me to take care of your pussy? I can smell your arousal. Your body still reacts to mine.” My brain and my body are in complete disagreement. While my brain knows it’s a bad idea, the hunger for his touch consumes me, like a starving man consumed by his desire for food. “Tss, stop fighting it. I know your body, Tink. It craves the release that only I can give you.” As his fingers dance over my breast through my top, I can’t help but moan softly.
“This is a bad idea.” My voice is barely a whisper. I”m not even convinced of my own words.
I never said I was known for my good choices. I’m going to regret this.
His lips start to trace light kisses on my neck and find my weak spot.
I struggle to convince myself of what I am saying, let alone anyone else.
“You… I hate you.” My voice is so low. I can barely hear it. I feel his fingers slowly inching their way up my thigh as he continues to kiss my neck. It’s barely a touch, but I feel it to my bones. He keeps tracing circles over my knickers, teasing me until I can’t take it anymore.
“Tonight is for you, and I’ll go slow. But next time, I’ll fuck you like you deserve.” Without warning, he tears my leggings apart. I gasp and fuck if that wasn’t sexy. I feel his gaze devouring me, like a famished predator eyeing its prey.
“W-what are you doing?” I ask, still stunned by his primitive behaviour.
“Do you wear those kinds of lingerie for other men?”
I decide not to answer his question. Doing that will only intensify his desire. Possessive is an understatement to describe him.
He is kneeling between my legs, his mouth really, really close to my pussy, making it throb with his warmth. “Because if that’s the case, I might need to kill each of them.”
Pulling my underwear aside, he slides his finger into my wetness, thrusting it in and out.
“So fucking wet,” he whispers.
“I don’t need you to be sweet.” The sensation is so overwhelming that I find it hard to speak. “If you want to fuck me, then fuck me because it won’t happen again.” As the pleasure intensifies, my moans grow louder.
“Oh, but baby, it will happen again. You have my word on that.” As he removes his finger from me, I hear the wet sound of his mouth as he sucks on it. “Hmm, so fucking sweet. I missed the taste of your cunt in my mouth.” His eyes are filled with a primal hunger. “How many men touched you?”
“W-what?”
“You heard me. How many men touched what’s mine?”
“I’m not yours.”
“You’re not?” A low, guttural growl escapes him, signalling his intentions before his mouth descends upon my pussy.
“Oh. My.” I’m lost for words.
He licks me with hunger, one of his hands on my thigh, gripping so hard that I won’t be surprised if I have marks tomorrow. I’ve never been sensitive to my nipples, but his other hand that’s playing with them sends electrical shocks through my core. His gaze slips to mine. I can’t help but look at him. He’s fascinating. I can feel myself getting wetter by the second, his tongue doing marvellous things to my pussy. While flicking his tongue on my clit, he slides a finger inside and murmurs, “Fuck, baby. You taste so good. I wish you could taste yourself.”
“A-Aidan. S-stop f-fucking t-talking.” I’m a huge mess. He knows what he’s doing, and fuck, that’s good. The sensation of his fingers and the pinch on my nipple send a rush of heat through my body. The noises coming from me are anything but human.
“Does my Tink love the pain?” That wasn’t a question. He knows my body. The contrast of pain and pleasure is what drives me to the heights of ecstasy. He increases the pressure of his pinch, twisting at the same time, causing me to let out a loud scream of pleasure.
“Fuck, you should see yourself right now. So beautiful and full of my fingers. Do you think you can take another one?” Without hesitation, he adds a third finger, and I can feel tears welling up in my eyes, the pleasure too intense. “That’s it. Fuck my fingers. I want to see you shatter and scream for me.”
I can’t speak. I can feel my orgasm coming, even though I’m trying to hold it off. And he feels it.
“Are you trying to keep your orgasm from me? That’s not what good girls do.” He sucks harder, his cheeks hollowing with the effort, and lifts his head to speak again. “But it’s what dirty sluts do.” I clench involuntarily at his words, and I know he senses it. “Hmm, interesting. Does my sweet girl like to be a dirty slut for me?” With one swift motion, he slaps my pussy, and it only intensifies the pleasure of his fingers inside me. I shatter. My body spasms. The dojo becomes a blur as I’m swept up in the pleasure of my orgasm, my screams echoing around me.
My clit is sensitive, but he doesn’t stop there.
“Do you think you can give me one more?” he asks, his face still buried between my thighs. I try to speak, but my words come out muffled as my previous orgasm is intensified by his tongue. “Yeah, I think you can give me one more. I could spend my life buried between these juicy thighs.”
I’ve been craving his touch for years. I’ve never experienced this level of intensity, not even with my toys. I can feel his hand digging into my flesh, which only intensifies my pleasure.
“Be a good slut for me, and give me what I’ve been craving for years.” He bites on my clit, and it’s all that I need to detonate on his tongue. I feel like a hurricane, pleasure spiralling around me. After licking one last time, he meets my gaze and holds it.
“Are you okay?” he asks, his face glittering with my pleasure.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. What did I do? Why did I let that happen? Because it was Fan-fucking-tastic.
He won’t let me go after that. I know it. Reality comes crashing in front of me because I forgot where we were.
Glancing around to make sure the dojo is empty, I answer. “I’m good.” I try to look around for my leggings, but… Shit, he ripped them off. I readjust my soaked underwear. Lovely. As I stand, I feel a rush of adrenaline, and I take a step back, trying to put some space between us.
I have the bottom of my kimono in my locker. That will do.
I look at him, completely flushed after the mind-blowing orgasms. I can see his hard cock beneath his joggers, and my mouth waters at the thought of having him in my mouth. I could take care of that, but I won’t. What is wrong with you? It was a one-off, and that’s it.
“I won’t bother saying it was a mistake because we both know it was, but it won’t happen again.”
A side smirk plays on his lips as he answers. “Keep telling yourself that, Tink.”
I bolt out of the room in nothing but my underwear, feeling self-conscious as I quickly head towards the locker to retrieve my kimono.
What in the hell just happened?
As I exit the dojo, the sound of crickets chirping fills the air, and I inhale deeply, trying to calm my racing heart.