Reiya’s pulse skittered—half frustration, half something she refused to name. She struggled to twist free, but his hold only tightened, his strength a reminder of just howeasilyhe could overpower her.
The heat in her blood surged, curling low, insistent. She could feel his body behind her, every breath, every shift of his muscles, and it ignited a hunger she couldn’t suppress. The faintest tremor ran through her limbs, her instincts stirring, clawing its way to the surface.
Her voice was quieter when she spoke this time, laced with defiance she wasn’t sure she could back up. “Let me go.”
Alarik didn’t move, his hand lingering against her hip for a heartbeat too long. “Then make me. The way I taught you: leverage, surprise, and when in doubt, go for the wrist.”
Reiya swallowed hard. Her elbows moved before she could think, driving into his wrist with enough force to make him grunt and loosen his grip. She spun quickly, breathing hard, her body buzzing with tension as she faced him again.
For a long moment, neither of them spoke.
Alarik regarded her, his gaze dark and searching, as if he could see the battle warring beneath her skin. His chest rose and fell with exertion, but his composure remained—steady, unshakable.
But she wasn’t unshakable. She was trembling, her body still attuned to him—every inch of him—as though drawn by some invisible tether.
He tilted his head slightly, a slow, deliberate move that tightened her chest. “Better.”
Reiya didn’t move,couldn’tmove. Her breathing was uneven, her pulse racing, and despite her resolve to train, she couldn’t deny what had begun to stir inside her.
It was instinct—a force simmering beneath the surface, growing stronger with every beat of silence, every brush of Alarik’s gaze against hers.
And he was staring.
The gold of his eyes, so often cool and controlled, had deepened. His focus wasn’t on her stance anymore, nor on her form or her footwork. It was onher.
Just then, Reiya saw it clearly:hewas distracted, too.
His chest rose and fell with controlled breaths, but the tightness in his jaw, the slight furrow between his brows, gave him away. She noticed the way his gaze lingered—on her flushed cheeks, the line of her collarbone where her tunic had slipped slightly, on the rise and fall of her breasts. His eyes flicked back to hers just as quickly, as if catching himself, but it was too late.
Neither of them broke the moment. The tension coiled tighter, hummed between them, like the stillness before a storm, until it was too much—too heavy.
She moved first. Or maybe he did.
Their mouths collided in a kiss that shattered the thin veneer of control between them. Alarik’s hand slid to the small of her back, then down to her rear and pulled her flush against him. His other hand threaded into her hair, tilting her head to deepen the kiss.
Reiya melted into him, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt to keep herself steady. His mouth was demanding, insistent, and the heat that had been simmering in her veins finally roared to life. She feltclaimedagain—possessed by the dominance in the way he kissed her, as if he were laying her bare without ever undressing her.
Her body responded without thought, pressing closer, chasing thepull of his heat. She rememberedthis—the weight of him, the sound of his voice when he broke between kisses, the way he held her as though she were the only thing that mattered.
When they finally broke apart, Reiya’s breaths came quick and shallow, her body still flush with heat. She met Alarik’s gaze, her cheeks burning, but she refused to look away.
“I thought this was a lesson,” she managed to say, though her voice came softer now, threaded with something she couldn’t hide.
“It is,” Alarik murmured, his thumb brushing the corner of her mouth with aching gentleness. His gaze lingered on her lips, his voice dropping lower. “And I have more to show you.”
He kissed her deeply, his hands firm at her waist as he lifted her with effortless strength. Her legs wrapped around his hips, locking tight as he carried her to the wall. A soft grunt escaped her lips when her back met the cool, unyielding stone, his body pressing flush against hers—hard muscles against soft curves.
“Do you remember the bathhouse?” he rasped against her mouth as he caged her between the wall and his frame.
She arched into him, her arms tightening around his neck. “Vividly.”
His gaze darkened. “Do you know what I wanted to do to you then?”
Her lips curled against his. “Don’t tell me.Showme.”
He spun her in one fluid motion, her chest pressing to the wall as she whimpered. The cool stone grazed her hardened nipples through the fabric, and her head tipped back, eyes fluttering shut.
Alarik dropped to his knees behind her, his hands already tugging at the ties of her pants. Her garments pooled at her feet within moments, leaving her bare. His hands slid along the inside of her thighs, nudging them apart until she stood open for him, fully exposed to his gaze.
