Ravage - Lacey Andersen (surface ebook reader .txt) 📗

Finally.

When she pulls away and I feel her close herself off from me, I’m left staring. I felt her arousal. Didn’t I? Fuck. Being tied to her meant that I was aware of things that most fae weren’t, like when someone feeds on me. Most of the time it was only a distant awareness, but with her it was so intense it overwhelmed me. But if this need was as strong in her as it was in me, how could she have pulled back?

“Today we’ll start with our stretching, then launch right into sparring.” I look up to see Professor Maneth circling us. The woman was rumored to be half fae and half ogre. I had no idea if there was any truth to the rumors, but she was the only person on campus bigger than I am. Her shoulders were easily the size of my own, and she looked just as comical as I did in the gym clothes. And yet, no one in their right mind would point it out to her.

We start out stretching, and my gaze keeps returning to Esmeray, even though I tell myself not to look at her. I fucking love the way her body moves. Is she even aware of the grace of her movements? She’s like an animal rather than a human. Or a dancer. Everything she does seems to draw my gaze to the lines of her shoulders, or her legs, and several times the professor has to remind me that we’re onto the next stretch.

By the time we have to spar, I’m rethinking my decision to partner with her, but the coach puts us together anyway, and I really try to focus on getting my cock to soften. If we start tumbling around together, there’s no doubt in my mind she’s going to notice the impact she has on me.

“Mat in the corner?” I say.

She shrugs, and I lead her to my favorite mat. It’s away from the others, and the window looks out on the gardens at the back of the school. Normally, I like this spot because the coach likes to partner me with people who need help. I can guide them softly, without the eyes of the whole class on us. But it suddenly feels intimate.

“Do you know how to spar?” I ask her.

She lifts a brow. “I usually fight in a…different way.”

I had no doubt of that. This woman screams of danger. “Let’s go over the basics.”

Even though she seems uninterested, I show her how to put someone in a hold and how to get out of it. I show her the proper stance, and remind her to bend her knees ever-so-slightly. When she continues to give me a bored look, I stand to my full height.

“It doesn’t matter how powerful we are, Esmeray. Every tool we can gain will help us to protect ourselves when it’s needed.”

“I’m not worried about needing to know how to roll around with a man.”

I try not to sound jealous when I say, “I talked with Lucian and Bron. If you’re going to stay here, you damn well need to learn how to fight with your hands too.”

“Well then teach me, oh great wrestler.”

Something snaps inside of me. This woman is the most precious thing to me in this world, but if I can’t get her to take this seriously, then she’s opening herself up to be hurt. I can’t let that happen.

I launch into action, and the air changes as she scrambles to escape me. Using my strength, I take her down, tossing her gently onto her back. Before she can rise, I climb on top, pinning her arms above her head.

Breathing hard, I whisper, “See what I mean?”

Her gaze holds mine. “Right now…I could kill you if I wanted to.”

Unable to help myself, I settle a little harder on top of her. “But you don’t want to.”

She wiggles under me, and all my blood runs south. I shudder, trying to keep control. But it’s a losing battle. With each second that passes, my willpower weakens until I shove off of her and stand once more.

I offer her my hand and she eyes me, her face unreadable, as she takes my hand. Helping her to her feet, we’re suddenly too close again. Taking a step back from her, I clear my throat and try to remember that I’m here to teach Esmeray much-needed skills.

“Again.”

We circle each other, and I can see it in her face. She’s taking this a little more seriously this time. Esmeray was always the competitive type. Maybe that would be enough to get her to actually learn something.

Her mouth opens into a shocked O when I grab her and knock her back onto the ground softly. Then her eyes narrow, and this time she ignores my hand when I offer it. We spar some more, and I notice that when I correct her, she actually applies the feedback, even if she pretends not to. By the end, I’m having to constantly block the attacks to my eyes and groin, and when she manages to kick my knees out from under me, she grins above me in triumph.

I can’t help myself. When she offers me her hand, I yank her down beside me.

We both grin, then sit up, taking a minute to catch our breath.

“So this is what you’ve been doing here?” she pants. “Beating up women?”

I shrug. “Sometimes.”

“And I bet it’s been so hard to roll around with a bunch of blondes.” She says it with a smirk that doesn’t reach her eyes.

I almost shrug again, but force myself to answer instead. “None of these women are…my type.”

“None of them?” she asks, raising a brow.

“No.” I let a slow breath out. “I like my women a little…darker. I like them with an edge.”

“Know any fae like that?”

“I do,” I say, holding her gaze for a second too long