63. Kyril
63
Kyril
F or some people, Sunday was a day for a lie-in. A chance to sleep off the lingering effects of a hangover or rue the moment you invited a chick back to your place when she was barely a 5/10.
Not me, though. I worked out religiously every day. With another fight booked in for next weekend, I needed to. Sure, my opponents were mostly useless, but it didn’t pay to become complacent.
And besides, I had a lot of aggression to burn off.
Dario Perreti was getting on my last nerve.
Thea threw me a smirk as she bent over to tighten her shoelaces. Every single thought in my head went poof as I focused on her peachy ass, gift-wrapped for me in tight lycra shorts.
My cock stiffened and I willed it to calm down. Sparring with a hard-on was a bad idea. Penis fractures were a thing. I’d Googled it once. Never again.
So, my little kotenok wanted to play, did she? Well, she was in for a surprise.
“Think you can take me down, big scary wolf-man?” she teased, dancing around me as I wrapped my fists.
“Oh, you’re going down, kotenok,” I replied with a feral grin.
Her eyes lit up with mirth, and my heart squeezed painfully in my chest. She smiled all too rarely, so when she did, it made me want to pull her close and tell her I lo—
My brain short-circuited and Thea took advantage, jabbing me hard in the gut and following it up with a roundhouse kick to my left knee. I shook my head to dispel such stupid thoughts and focused.
Thea was much smaller than me, but I’d seen her fight. And I couldn’t afford to let my guard down. Not for a second.
Not if I wanted to walk away with my balls and dignity intact.
We ducked and dived. She got a few good hits in. For such a petite thing, she had a hard punch. She was also not afraid of fighting dirty.
I, on the other hand, was very much holding back, which she soon noticed.
“Fight me like a man, asshole!” she growled before jabbing me in the ribs.
I half-heartedly aimed a punch, which she dodged easily. The problem was that I didn’t want to hurt her. Fighting women wasn’t my thing. A female MMA fighter had shown up one time at the fight club. I’d refused to fight her, but Andrej got into the ring with her.
In all fairness to her, she’d been good. More than good. But I had a lot more power in my fists than Andrej, and if I didn’t hold back, I could easily kill a female.
Since I wasn’t my father, I took no pleasure in hurting a woman.
The more I pulled my punches, the angrier Thea got. If she’d been carrying one of her knives, I’d probably be dead. Thankfully, the only weapons she had right now was her vicious mouth and highly suckable tits.
It didn’t take her long to notice how distracted I was each time she bounced up and down on her toes. When my gaze dropped to her tits instead of watching her fists, she pounced. A quick one-two followed by a sweeping kick took me down.
Honestly, it was embarrassing how easily she caught me out. I landed on my back with her astride me, her forearm braced across my throat.
“Pathetic,” she hissed. “I’ve seen five-year-olds put more effort in than you!”
My eyes narrowed. “Really?”
She smirked while grinding her sweet pussy over my dick. “You were too busy staring at my boobs to fight me properly,” she scoffed. “Go on, admit it.”
I sat up and flipped us over so she was under me. Before she could protest, I pulled her sports bra up and sucked a nipple into my mouth. All of her sass turned into sweet moans and in no time at all, she was the one writhing under me.
“We shouldn’t be doing this in here!” She groaned when my fingers slid inside her shorts.
She had a point. Anyone could walk in. I was shocked nobody had already.
No sooner did the thought enter my head when the entrance door swung open.
“Well, well,” drawled a familiar voice. “If I’d known what kind of workout you had planned, I’d have got up an hour ago.”