“I'm fine.”
“Sebastian—”
“Don't.” His voice went hard. “Don't treat me like I'm breakable. I get enough of that from everyone else.”
“You should not train like this.”
“Like what? Hurt?” He laughed. Sharp. Bitter. “You think people who want me dead will wait until I'm healed? Will schedule appointments around my recovery time?”
Fair point. Infuriating, but fair.
“We go light,” I said. Voice rougher than intended. “No full contact.”
“That defeats the purpose.”
“Purpose is to train, not damage you further.”
“I don't need you to go easy on me, Viktor. I need you to treat me like I'm capable.” His voice dropped. Intimate. “Like I'm not something fragile you have to handle with care.”
My cock was fully hard now. Pressing painful against my zipper.
“You are capable. You are also hurt.”
“Then teach me how to fight hurt.” His jaw set. Stubborn. Beautiful. His cock visibly hard, thick outline unmistakable. “Because that's the reality, isn't it? Nobody gets attacked when they're fresh and ready.”
He was right. Again. And I hated it.
“Fine,” I said. “But we stop if anything opens up.”
“Deal.”
We started with basics. Stance. Weight distribution. How to move when your body was screaming at you to stay still. I circled him, correcting posture with words instead of touch because touching felt dangerous.
“Feet wider. Lower your center of gravity.”
He adjusted. Thigh muscles flexing. His cock bobbed with the movement. I watched the shift in his balance. The way his body responded to instruction like he'd been waiting for permission to be dangerous.
“Like this?”
“Better. Now. Someone grabs you from behind. What do you do?”
“Depends on the grab.”
“Show me.”
I moved behind him, careful not to actually make contact yet. My cock pressed thick and insistent against my pants. “Arms pinned. Attacker bigger than you. What is your move?”
“Drop my weight. Disrupt their balance.”
“Good. Then?”
“Elbow to ribs. Foot stomp. Head back into their face.”
“Correct. But you are thinking too slow. By the time you decide, you are already hurt.” I stepped closer. Close enough to feel the heatradiating off him. Close enough that my chest nearly brushed his back. “May I?”
He nodded. I saw his throat work as he swallowed.
I wrapped my arms around him from behind, pinning his arms to his sides. Felt him go tense immediately. Not fear. Awareness. His body pressed against mine, warm and solid and fitting in ways that made rational thought difficult. My cock pressed hard against his lower back. He had to feel it. Had to know what he was doing to me.
