Chapter 19
June
Malcolm and I move the loveseat and the coffee table, making room for my self-defence lessons.
He offered to teach me this morning over breakfast, and I jumped at the chance, excited to learn how to protect myself instead of constantly needing to be rescued by him.
Now that we’re facing each other, it dawns on me we’re likely going to share a lot of physical contact during my lesson. My stomach gets tight and quivery at the thought. That’s dangerous territory for us, which is why I’ve been avoiding getting too close to him this past week.
Oh, well. It’s too late to back out now, and I don’t want to either. I want to learn what he intends to teach me. That’s what I’m going to focus on. I’ll block any inappropriate thoughts from entering my mind.
“OK, first, you need to know the main vulnerable points,” he begins. “The eyes, the nose, the throat, and the groin.” He taps on his fingers as he lists them off. “If you’re able to attack one of those, you stand a higher chance of the best self-defence of all: running away as fast as you can.”
I nod. “Poke them in the eyes, hit them in the nose and throat, kick them in the no-no square.”
He smiles. “Pretty much. And, remember, when you’re defending yourself against someone who wants to harm you, don’t hesitate for even a second. Stay committed to what you’re doing and give it all you got.”
I nod again, then grimace. “I hope I don’t accidentally hurt you while I’m practising.”
“Don’t worry about that. We’ll go easy today, but we’ll train harder once the protective gear I ordered last night shows up.”
“OK. Until then, I’ll do my best not to kick you in the twig and berries.”
He laughs. “Twig and berries, huh?” His chuckle fades into a smirk. “Trust me, sweetheart. It isn’t a twig.”
A thrill goes through me at his confident statement. He’s right. I saw the impressive shape of it. If only he’d peeled down his boxers and—
How is my mind already in the gutter?
We’ve barely started my training!
Thankfully, Malcolm puts us back on track. He goes over more helpful tips like using my voice as added aggression, and faking obedience to trick an attacker into thinking I won’t resist before I defend myself.
“There are some other considerations when a weapon’s involved,” he says. “That’s for another day. For now, we’ll go over a few basic moves.”
The first one he teaches me is how to target an attacker’s face, making sure my fingers gouge the eyes while pushing them back. I’m starkly aware of our size difference as his big hand covers my whole face during his demonstration.
When it’s my turn to try it on him, I’m a little distracted by the brush of his lips, the faint prickle of his stubble, and his warm breath against my palm.
We go through a few other moves, like how to escape arm and hair grabs. Things get a lot more physically intimate when the next demonstration involves him grabbing me from behind in a firm hold, my arms pinned at my sides.
“Now, they’re likely going to try to lift you next.”
His low voice vibrates through his chest and against my back. Every single part of me is aware of him, aware of his touch and how much I missed it. I struggle to focus on his words.
“When they do, you grab onto their hands—grab my hands.”
Despite my pinned arms, I have enough room to curl my fingers over his wrists.
“Like this?”
“Yes. Good. When they lift you, hold on tight and start kicking backward. Use your heels to strike their groin.”
He lifts me effortlessly. I follow his instruction, swinging my legs backward but not with enough drive to actually hit him in the crotch.
We practice the move a few more times, my sexual frustration climbing the longer he holds onto me. Finally, he releases me and smiles.
“Good girl. You’ve been doing really well. You’re a fast learner.”
My stomach flips at the praise and the filthy memory his words unearthed. The last time he called me a good girl, he had his fingers deep inside me while he ordered me to moan for him.
“I have a good teacher, that’s why.”
“Up for learning a last one? It’s more advanced than what I’ve taught you so far, but I think it’s pretty important.”
I hesitate. Training in self-defence is more exerting than I thought. I’m a little tired and looking forward to some screen time.
The first thing I’m going to watch is porn while I use my fingers to vent the arousal built up from Malcolm’s touch. Even if my body would much prefer if I did it the old-fashioned way with him. It might be wrong, but I don’t care.
However, if he says this move is important, I might as well learn it while we’re here.
“OK, I’m game,” I say.
His expression turns serious. “I hope you never come close to using this one because it means you’re in a vulnerable spot.”
He lowers himself to the carpet, lying on his back.
“If they have you down on the ground and they’re on top of you…” He beckons me. “Come. Kneel between my legs.”
Cautiously, I obey. He raises his knees and orders me to shift closer until the tops of my thighs press against the backs of his.
“Bend over me. Put your hands around my neck and pretend you’re choking me,” he orders next.
“Sure. Pretend.” I grin while I make air quotes and he chuckles.
As I shift into position, there’s a lot of room between our groins. My face warms that this is almost a reverse of how we were that night he spread my legs—
Focus!
It’s so hard to do that when we’re in such an intimate position. I can’t even meet his gaze as I wrap my fingers around his neck. When I stare at his lips, a crazy urge to kiss him enters my mind. So I drop my gaze to his chin.
My mind is preoccupied with the press of his thighs against my hips, his warm skin against my palms, and the rumble of his voice through my fingers as he explains the proper steps of the move.
He grabs my full attention when he demonstrates the escape. It involves him squeezing my body with his thighs, and forcing my arms into an unnatural position. The sensation of quickly rising discomfort makes me wide-eyed, but he stops before he hurts me.
“Your turn,” he says.
Malcolm sits up and moves out of the way. I lie on my back and lift my knees, realizing too late this is a bad idea when I widen my legs.
He shuffles forward until our thighs touch. His crotch a mere few inches from mine, he looms over me like a silent giant with darkening eyes.
My body goes tense when he wraps his long fingers around my neck. An alarm rings in my head, but I can’t hear it over the heavy thumping in my chest. I grab onto his wrists, my thoughts too scattered to remember what I’m supposed to do next.
I’m afraid and aroused. Or maybe I’m aroused because I’m afraid. He isn’t applying any pressure, but his forearms are hard muscle.
It would be so easy for him to choke the life out of me. For some seriously messed up reason, that turns me on. I’m aroused by the thought of Malcolm stealing my oxygen while he forces his cock inside me.
As if he reads my mind, Malcolm tightens his grip around my throat, and my pulse flutters against his fingers. There’s a raw, hungry look in his eyes that hasn’t been there the entire time we’ve been training. Or maybe he hid it well.
“Fuck it.”
His low voice is hardened by determination. He releases my neck, then lowers his face and kisses me.