5. NYLA
Five
NYLA
I wake up to the smell of coffee and a heavy arm slung over my waist.
Reece is already watching me when I open my eyes. No mask. Morning light on that broken-handsome face. The cut over his eye is uglier in the day, a dark split that makes my stomach tighten. His chest is a huge wall of muscles. His cock, a thick, sleepy weight against my ass.
“Hi,” I croak.
“Hi, pretty girl.” His hand slides down, cups between my legs, finds me sore and still wet, still messy from last night. Two fingers pet my clit like he owns the reflex. “You finally awake.”
I should leave. I have a life that does not include underground fighters who claim ownership at first sight.
His fingers stroke me. Lazy. Possessive. I rock into his touch with a helpless roll of my hips, and he makes a pleased sound against my shoulder.
“My cousin’s gonna think I got kidnapped.”
“Text her.” He kisses my shoulder, then bites it. “Tell her you’re busy. Tell her you’re mine.”
I huff out a breathy laugh. “You can’t just…”
He rolls me under him and sinks in before I finish my sentence. Slow. Deep. Eyes on mine. And it’s fucking worse than anything we’ve done so far. It’s intimate. I feel every inch split me open again, tender and greedy, and I wrap my legs around his waist because there is nowhere else I want them.
“I can,” he says against my mouth. “I did.” He bottoms out and stays there, grinding on my clit until I gasp. “This pussy took all I gave it last night, and it’s still hugging me like it wants more. I want to see your face when I fill you in my bed. Remind you how this fucking works. ”
I laugh, then moan, then come around him with my nails in his back, and he fucks me through it all in long, heavy strokes that make the headboard knock. When he finishes, he doesn’t pull out. He stays inside me and says, “Fight’s Friday. You’re in my corner. After you come home.”
Fucking insane.
I can still feel him twitching, leaking out of me on his sheets. And I can still hear him telling me to get on my knees in that locker room with his skull-mask on his face.
But I hear myself reply, “Okay.”
His smile is small. It still fucking wrecks me.
“Good girl.” He kisses me again. “Now stay in bed while I make you breakfast. Then I’m getting you in the shower and getting my mouth on this sore little cunt before I drive you back to your car. We doing this shit right.”
I blink. “Define right.”
“You mine. I’m yours.” His thumb traces my lower lip.