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“I could say the same to you,” I said. “Realistically, I could have ended your life if I wanted to.”
“It’s a good thing that’s not what you want…anymore.”
He didn’t stay hunched as long as I’d expected. He came back at me, this time, not swinging. He strode forward, arms dangling at his sides.
He wanted me to make the first move, so I did.
I lifted a leg and kicked toward his head, which he easily ducked past. I balled my fists and sent two blows into his exposed center, and he countered them with a forearm. He counteredeverything, and I ground my teeth as I tried to find a more surefire opening.
But instead of coming at me with punches or kicks, he continued moving forward until his chest pressed into mine, and all I could do was try to create some distance between us.
Then, my body was in his arms, trapped against his chest in a way I couldn’t escape. Not as he gently lay me back on the mats, climbing atop and pinning both arms above my head.
I considered all the ways I could easily escape this, but when I met his fuming eyes, I stopped. He wasn’t looking at me like an opponent. He looked into my eyes like he wanted to devour me, and it had a molten pool of lust immediately seeping between my legs.
“Seeing you beneath me is the biggest turn-on,” he said, pinning my body with an expert’s precision.
I let him.
“I guess you won,” I whispered, biting my bottom lip. “Why don’t you show me what you had in mind for your prize.”
A smile pulled at his lips as he moved both wrists to one of his hands, trailing the other down my cheek. “I think I want to hear you beg.”
“You think you can make me?” I teased.
His hand moved to my throat, a finger moving down the center of it, then between the peaks of my breasts. “I think you likebeing dominated. And a little bit of pain seems to make you squirm for me.”
His fingers found the peak of my nipple and pinched just hard enough that I bucked. He barely allowed me to move as his hand roamed down my chest to my naval before trailing upward again.
I hadn’t realized it was so obvious, but I couldn’t help but squirm beneath him. I panted, and I wasn’t sure if it was from the intense match we’d had together or the proximity of his body to mine.
“This doesn’t feel like training,” I told him with a deep breath.
“How did you get this one?” Dante asked, changing the subject and pointing to a small scar on my jawline—one barely perceptible to the naked eye.
“I trained.”
“That answer isn’t very forthcoming,” he said, dropping his hand between my thighs. He pressed beneath the stretchy pants I wore and pushed his finger right into a spot that sent me immediately bucking.
“Dante,” I cried out.
“Answer my question.”
“Training with Valentino and a knife. Sometimes, I got nicked if I didn’t avoid the blade well enough.”
Dante’s expression hardened, but he didn’t stop moving his hand. God, he didn’t stop working me. “Hecutyou?”
“If I couldn’t survive a knife fight, I wouldn’t be a good assassin. He said he needed the best.”
Looking back, the harsh words jarred something within me. I should have seen the red flag for what it was.
“Do you have more scars like that?” he asked.
I bit my lip, wondering if I should tell him. He pressed a finger into me, still working the bundle of nerves that had my knees trembling. But he didn’t allow me to reach the top of that climax—not yet. He teased and taunted.
“Yes,” I finally admitted.
“Are they all from his training?”
