Chapter 5
five
. . .
Ryker
I've never brought a woman here before. My gym is my sanctuary—the one place where the world makes perfect sense.
Hit or get hit. Win or lose. Simple. But watching Amanda walk beside me toward the entrance, her small hand tucked in mine, I want her to see this part of me.
Want her to understand the man who claimed her body last night.
Three times. And again this morning on her kitchen table.
Fuck, I'm getting hard just thinking about how she screamed for me, called me "Daddy" when she came.
Never thought I'd be into that shit, but when those innocent lips form the word, my primal brain goes haywire.
"This is it?" she asks, looking up at the weathered building with "Hammer's MMA" painted in faded letters above the door.
"This is it." I guide her inside with a hand on her lower back, proprietary and protective.
The familiar smells hit me instantly—sweat, leather, disinfectant. The sounds of gloves hitting pads, grunts of exertion, the rhythmic slap of jump ropes hitting the floor. Home, in its own fucked-up way.
"Ryker! The hell you doing here on your day off?" Hammer himself calls from the office doorway. Mid-sixties, scarred face, still built like a tank. The man who took me in when I was a rage-filled teenager with nowhere to go.
"Showing Amanda around," I reply, pulling her slightly closer. Making it clear she's with me.
Hammer's eyebrows shoot up. In the fifteen years he's known me, I've never brought anyone here. He recovers quickly, nodding to Amanda with unexpected gentleness.
"Nice to meet you, little lady. This ugly bastard giving you trouble, you come see me."
Amanda smiles, and the sight does something to my chest. She's fucking radiant, even in simple jeans and a t-shirt. No makeup, hair pulled back in a ponytail. Perfect.
"I'll keep that in mind," she says, and I can tell she likes the old man immediately.
I lead her through the gym, watching her reaction to my world. The place isn't fancy—concrete floors, exposed brick walls, equipment that's functional rather than pretty. But it's real. Authentic. No bullshit.
"This is where you trained?" she asks, trailing her fingers along the edge of the main ring.
"Yeah. Twelve years professional. Retired after one too many concussions." I tap my temple. "Doctor's orders."
Her eyes soften with concern, and she reaches up to touch my face. Right there, in front of everyone. Like I'm something precious. Not the scarred, violent beast I know myself to be.
"Do you miss it?" she asks.
"The fighting? Sometimes. The discipline, the focus." I shrug. "But not the politics. Not the bullshit."
I'm showing her the weight area when I feel it. The change in energy. The hair on the back of my neck stands up before I even turn around.
Vince. One of our up-and-coming fighters. Cocky piece of shit with fast hands and a faster mouth. And right now, his eyes are locked on Amanda's ass.
"Ryker," he acknowledges with a nod, but his gaze slides right back to Amanda. "Who's this?"
I step slightly in front of her, blocking his view. "None of your fucking business."
But Amanda, sweet girl that she is, extends her hand. "I'm Amanda. Nice to meet you."
He takes her hand, holding it a beat too long. "Very nice to meet you. Vince Martinez. You should come watch me fight next weekend. I could get you front row seats."
The red haze descends so fast I barely register moving. One second I'm standing beside Amanda, the next I have Vince pinned to the mats, my forearm across his throat.
"Look at her again and you're done," I growl, low enough that only he can hear. "Touch her again and I'll break every finger, then your fucking wrists."
To his credit, the little shit doesn't struggle. Smart move. I outweigh him by at least fifty pounds of pure muscle.
"Easy, man," he chokes out. "Just being friendly."
"She doesn't need your kind of friendly." I press harder for a moment, making sure he gets the message, then release him.
When I turn back, Amanda's eyes are wide, but not with fear. Something else—something that makes my cock harden instantly. Arousal. My little virgin is turned on by my violence.
"We're leaving," I tell her, taking her hand.
She nods, letting me lead her out. I barely acknowledge Hammer's knowing look as we pass him.
The drive back to my place is tense, my knuckles white on the steering wheel. Every few seconds, I glance at Amanda, expecting to see disgust or fear. But she keeps looking at me with those big, innocent eyes full of something that looks dangerously like adoration.
"You're not scared," I state when we're stopped at a light.
"No," she says simply. "Should I be?"
"I just attacked a man for looking at you."
She reaches over, places her small hand on my thigh. "You protected me, Daddy.”
Fuck.
Those four simple words snap what little restraint I have left. The moment we're through my door, I have her pinned against the wall, my mouth devouring hers. She responds instantly, arms winding around my neck, body melting into mine.
"Do you have any fucking idea what you do to me?" I growl against her lips. "How insane it makes me when other men look at you?"
Her answer is to rock her hips against the hard ridge of my cock, making me groan.
I spin her around, bending her over the back of my couch. She goes willingly, so fucking trusting it makes my chest ache. I yank her jeans down, followed by her panties, revealing her perfect ass and the pink, glistening pussy that's already wet for me.
"Look at this," I murmur, running one finger through her folds. "Already soaking for me. This little cunt recognizes its daddy, doesn’t it?"
She whimpers, pushing back against my hand. "Please..."
I free my cock, rock-hard and throbbing, and guide it to her entrance. "Please what, princess?"
"Please, Daddy," she whispers, the words sending a bolt of pure lust through me.
I push in slowly, watching my thickness disappear into her tight heat. The sight is fucking mesmerizing. This perfect, innocent girl taking all of me. Trusting me with her body.
"My princess," I groan once I'm fully seated inside her. "Only Daddy gets this body. This tight little pussy belongs to me."
I start thrusting, harder than I should maybe, but I can't help it. The jealousy from the gym still burns through my veins, demanding I mark her. Claim her. Make her undeniably mine.
"Yes," she moans, pushing back to meet each thrust. "Only you, Ryker. Only ever you."
I grip her hips hard enough to bruise, pounding into her with enough force to push the couch forward. "Say it again. Tell me who you belong to."
"You!" she cries out. "I belong to you!"
I reach around to find her clit, rubbing tight circles as I fuck her. "And who am I, princess? Who's cock is stretching this sweet pussy?"
"Daddy," she gasps, her inner walls fluttering around me. "You're my Daddy."
Something primal and possessive breaks loose inside me. "That's right, baby girl. And Daddy's gonna fill you up. Gonna put my babies in this virgin womb. Make sure everyone knows you're mine."
The breeding talk should scare her. Should be too much, too soon. But instead, she tightens around me, a tell-tale sign she's close.
"You like that?" I growl, leaning over her back to speak directly into her ear. "Like the idea of me breeding you? Filling this innocent body with my seed until your belly swells with my child?"
"Yes," she confesses, voice breaking with pleasure. "Please, Daddy. Want to be yours completely."
That admission destroys the last of my control. I slam into her, one hand gripping her hip, the other wrapped in her ponytail, pulling just enough to arch her back.
"Come for me," I command. "Come on Daddy's cock while I breed you deep."
She shatters beautifully, her pussy clamping down on me like a vise, milking my own release. I bury myself to the hilt and empty inside her with a roar, marking her from within.
Afterward, I gather her trembling body in my arms, carrying her to my bedroom. I lay her on the bed gently, as if she might break, and stretch out beside her. She curls against me immediately, fitting perfectly against my side.
"I'm sorry if I was too rough," I murmur, stroking her hair.
She looks up at me, eyes soft and sated. "Don't apologize. I loved it." A shy smile crosses her face. "I love how protective you are. How you make me feel safe, even when you're being…intense."
Something in my chest cracks open at her words. This sweet, innocent girl sees the beast in me and isn't afraid. She welcomes it. Embraces it.
"You're mine now," I tell her, not a question but a statement of fact. "No going back."
Her answer is to press a gentle kiss over my heart. "I don't want to go back. I want to go forward. With you."
And for the first time in my violent, bloody life, I feel something like peace.