4. Lucas
CHAPTER 4
Lucas
I carefully wrap Serafina's hands with the hand wraps, taking a moment to admire her natural beauty up close. Her long dark hair, a soft black, is tied back, drawing attention to her stunning green eyes. Freckles dot her nose and cheeks, adding to her charm. And I can't help but notice the same subtle scent of lavender emanating from her.
My new favorite scent.
"Ready to dance?" I taunt with a smirk, trying to ignore how my heart thuds against my ribs.
"Only if you're ready to get your ass kicked," she shoots back, causing a grin to spread across my face.
We step into the ring together, and as I inch in front of her to teach her the basics, I can't help but become spellbound by her grace and fire.
Her body doesn't go unnoticed, either. Her hot pink sports bra hugs her breasts, accentuating their fullness and drawing my eyes like a magnet. Her short, black, loose gym shorts cling to her curves, each movement sending shockwaves through my body and causing my primal instincts to kick in, my arousal undeniable and impossible to ignore. Her thick, powerful thighs make my cock instantly hard. She's a warrior goddess, and I can't resist her.
Focus for just a second, damn it.
I'm hyper aware of every breath she takes, shallowed every time I touch her beautiful olive skin. "Turn your fist so your palm faces down," I guide her small fist, and she gives me a nervous smile. "And relax, I won't bite," I joke, earning a chuckle from my angelic principessa.
She catches on quickly, and I introduce slightly more complex combos. "Have you boxed before?" I ask in between combos.
She shakes her head, slightly out of breath, "Never."
"I don't believe it," the hint of surprise in my voice causes her cheeks to flush a light shade of pink before she quickly shifts her attention back to punching the pads in front of her. "You have a natural talent for it."
She swings a hook with bad intentions, and I deflect. The contact vibrates through me, a live wire sparking between us. Her eyes flash, not just competitive fire there—something else, something like recognition. She's as trapped by this tension as I am.
In the corner of my eye, the gym's mirror reflects our dance. No one else knows the truth behind those emerald eyes. Her family name is mine to keep. It's a weight, a promise, a silent pact she doesn't know I gladly hold.
I throw a combination, testing her defense. She blocks and counters, and we're locked in this battle that's more than just physical—the air crackles, charged with unsaid words and unmade choices.
"Okay, now we'll work on footwork," I move around the ring with light steps. She watches my every step closely, trying to mimic my movements.
We spend the next half hour working on footwork and different combinations. With each punch that connects with the pads, I feel a surge of adrenaline coursing through my veins, and my heart races faster than any fight I've been a part of.
"Okay, I think that's enough for today," I wipe sweat from my forehead with a towel before throwing a clean one in her direction.
She takes a deep breath and nods in agreement as she pats herself dry.
"Same time tomorrow?" I smirk, knowing full well she'll be back. Not just for the thrill of the fight.
"Depends," her eyes sparkle mischievously. "You planning on going easy on me again?"
"Never," I promise, because in the ring and out, this beautiful woman deserves nothing less than everything I've got.
"Good." She nods, respect earned.