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Marco leaned into me. “He’s going to want to hear you cheering, Z. I know you hate it, but you gotta let him hear that voice.”
“I don’t think I can,” I rasped.
He reached around me, gripping my nape hard. Walls up, Marco’s voice was even harder than his hold. “Yeah you can. Pets do as they’re told, don’t they?”
“Stop touching me, Marco.” I turned and met his eyes, giving him some of his hard back. “Don’t touch me.”
After a long beat, his hand fell away. “Raise that voice, Z, and I won’t have to touch you again.”
I turned back to the fight. Everything had changed. Amir was in charge now, sending Grizzled back to the ropes. He landed blow after blow on Grizzled’s sides and belly. The muscles in Amir’s back flexed and strained under his artful, athletic movements. He was so light on his feet, when Grizzled came after him, Amir dodged most of his hits easily.
I clapped for him first and quietly said his name. There was no way he heard me, but I couldn’t put any more power into it. I was too tense, too afraid, and nothing going on in front of me made me want to cheer.
But I felt Marco’s eyes on me and the pressure I was under. Amir was beating a man to a pulp, and for some reason, he needed my voice to encourage him to do it even harder.
My heart stopped when Grizzled seemed to have gotten a second wind. He came after Amir, landing a solid right hook to his jaw. Amir spun, and for a split second, our eyes connected.
I cupped my hands around my mouth and yelled at him, because in that moment, I didn’t want him to lose. “Come on, Amir! You can do it!”
He only let Grizzled land one more punch before he began to systematically destroy him. Punching, punching, punching until Grizzled was bloody and wobbling. It was brutal, interminable, and breathtaking all at once. Amir’s golden skin shined with sweat, but he showed no sign of flagging. He bounced on his toes, jabbing, dodging Grizzled’s few feeble punches, and once more, took a split second to sweep his eyes over me.
Then he threw a punch that made Grizzled spin like a ballerina, making it clear this match was finished. The referee jumped back into the ring, speaking to Grizzled, perhaps asking him if he was done. He nodded, and the ref grabbed Amir’s hand, holding it in the air.
Marco and Julien jumped up, cheering at the top of their lungs, so I followed suit. Well, I didn’t cheer at the top of my lungs, but I yelled along with them, calling Amir’s name.
He looked right at me, sweat and blood mingling on his face and bare torso. His hair was even darker, and his expression was feral. Something stirred low in my belly, and this time, it wasn’t fear. I shouldn’t have found him attractive…well, ever, but especially not now. Not when he’d just viciously attacked another man, even if the other man had signed up for it. But dear god, there was something so primal about the way he’d fought and now stood victorious, his legs spread wide, his sleek chest rising and falling in rapid pants, that made me press my thighs together and stifle a whimper.
I swore he saw my reaction to him. He hadn’t taken his eyes off me, and there was something telling in the twitch of his lips as he stared. I was in his snare until Reno rushed the ring, taking his brother’s attention for himself.
Amir left the ring a minute or two later. Julien, Marco, and I followed. The door to his dressing room was open. Amir stood on the far side of the room, wiping his face with a white towel, leaving streaks of blood. When we entered, he only had eyes for me.
“Everyone out. Zadie, stay,” Amir growled.
The traitors who’d had my back during the fight were ghosts as soon as Amir had told them to vanish—another reminder Julien and Marco weren’t my friends. The click of the door shutting behind me served to drive the point home. They’d locked me in here with him.
He prowled toward me, hands flexing at his sides, something wild in his glare, like he was more animal than man. Heart hammering, I backed away until I hit wall. He kept coming until his bare chest was flush with mine. His hand came to my throat, ringing it in a firm circle.
“You were holding his hand.” He dipped down, touching his nose to mine. “What the fuck are you doing, Zadie? Why are you making me crazy?”
“I didn’t mean—”
“Fuck what you mean.” His hand tightened, leaving me just enough room to suck in a breath. “I wanted to jump out of the ring and drag my best friend into it so I could beat the shit out of him. Becauseyoutouched him.Youlet him hold your hand. And then...and then I hear your sweet voice yelling my name, and it’s all I can do not to kill that bitch so I can get to you. What the fuck are you doing, Zadie?”
Amir squeezed my throat harder as his mouth crashed into mine. When I gasped for air, he slid his tongue between my parted lips and licked me all over, owning me, claiming every inch with violent lashes.
My nails dug into his shoulders hard enough for him to let up on his grip. He continued his assault, his kisses anything but loving or passionate. This was his alternative to hitting me. His hard, unyielding mouth was my punishment.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew I hadn’t done anything wrong to deserve punishment, but my inner protests were weak. Because Amir’s mouth on mine made everything else fade.
His hands were just as furious, squeezing my breasts, my butt, my hips. Over my clothes first, then diving under, rolling my nipples between his fingers and shoving a hand down the back of my panties.
He tore his mouth from mine, panting hot breaths against my lips. “Down on your knees, little mama.”
“Wha—?” My mind was at war with itself. Desire and logic clashed with one another. I knew Amir’s mouth. He’d used it in a different way on me, a passionate, giving way. My body was remembering that and responding to him now, even though all he was doing was taking and passion had been replaced by violence.
“On your knees. Show me who you belong to.” He pressed on my shoulders until I was sinking down to the rough concrete floor. With his hand on the back of my head, he held me steady while he rubbed his clothed erection along my lips.
Feeling him like that was a cold bucket of water on my head. Panic clogged my throat. I didn’t want this. I wasn’t his. I didn’t want him in my mouth. Not this way. Not with concrete cutting into my skin through my jeans, dozens of people milling about just outside the thin door, and Amir too blind with anger and adrenaline to even know who I was.
