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Chapter 7 - 7~Mira

My fists were raw. My breath came in shallow, ragged pulls as I struck the leather bag again and again, knuckles stinging despite the wraps. Sweat burned my eyes, my arms screamed, and my lungs felt like they were collapsing.

"Again," Alana barked.

"I can't—"

The word barely left my lips before her hand shoved me forward. I stumbled, chest heaving, and punched weakly at the leather bag. My vision blurred. My body wasn't listening anymore. If Alana were to strike me now, I wouldn't be able to stop her.

Donna Carmela's voice rang out, smooth and sharp from her chair in the corner.

"Pathetic. If someone came for you right now, you'd already be dead."

The humiliation cut deeper than the ache in my muscles. Tears threatened to spill, but I blinked them away. I wouldn't give her the satisfaction.

She left soon after someone called for her attention. I thought I would be able to catch my breath but…

"Again," Alana ordered. "Or you'll take the sandbag's place."

My knees buckled at her words, but Alana held me up, her fingers an iron grip around my arm. She shoved me against the bag, and I stumbled, nearly falling back down. I prayed for someone to save me.

That was when the doors slammed open.

"WHAT the fuck is going on here?"

The sound of his voice cracked through the room like thunder.

Every tense muscle in me relaxed at once. Relief surged through me so quickly it made me dizzy. 

But I couldn't explain why his sudden appearance gave me a sense of security. There was something about his presence that made me feel safe, like he had come to rescue me. It was odd. Especially because he was the reason why I was in this mess in the first place. For some reason I trusted that he wouldn't hurt me. He would protect me from everything that tried to hurt me. Well at least physically. 

Jace stood at the threshold, shadows coiling around him like he'd brought the storm with him. His glare was lethal, his jaw tight enough to snap bone.

"Don," Alana stammered, instantly stepping back.

I swayed, clutching the bag for support. My chest rose and fell like I'd been drowning. Maybe I had.

"I asked a question," he said, his voice low, dangerous.

Alana straightened. "Donna Carmela instructed—"

"Without my permission?" His tone could have cut through steel.

"She said—"

"I don't care what she said." His strides were fast, sharp, until he was right in front of me. The heat of him, the scent of his cologne that was grounding and even familiar. It almost undid me. His hand came to my waist, steadying me, and I felt the tremor in my legs give way to his strength.

He looked down at me then, and the hardness in his eyes shifted when they met mine. Rage flickered, but it wasn't at me. It was for me.

Turning back to Alana, his voice was thunder again.

"I pay people like you to guard her, not to break her. If she so much as breathes wrong in your presence again, I'll have your head cut off."

"Don—"

"Shut up." His roar made everyone in the room flinch. Even me.

And then, without hesitation, he scooped me up. My breath hitched as my body lifted like I weighed nothing, his arm firm around my back, the other beneath my knees.

Gasps echoed across the training hall, but no one dared move. His glare alone promised death.

I pressed my face against his chest, shame and relief tangling in my throat. My tears fell before I could stop them.

He carried me up the stairs without a word, each stride echoing like a drumbeat of fury and possession.

When we reached his room, he set me gently on the bed. The mattress dipped under my weight, and I sank into it with a sob of relief. My body ached everywhere.

I lifted my head to find him pulling off his shirt, every movement sharp, coiled with fury. My eyes lingered on the ridges of muscle, the ink on his skin, the raw masculinity radiating off him.

I tried to look away but I couldn't. My eyes were stuck to the magnificence of his taut body. 

His gaze caught mine, and the storm there made my pulse trip.

"Look at me," he rasped.

The sound of his voice scraped against my nerves like dark velvet. Goosebumps rippled across my skin. I obeyed without thinking.

He crossed the room in two strides, fingers gripping my chin, tilting it up.

"You're mine. No one touches what's mine," he growled, his breath hot against my lips.

Then his mouth was at my throat, teeth grazing my skin, pulling a gasp from deep inside me.

 "Get in the shower." He ordered me and like a robot, I took off my clothes and went in, not in front of him though.

 I was busy washing off all the grime and sweat from my training session when I heard him come in. Naked.

 I almost shut my eyes, almost covered myself too but I stood there frozen by the intensity of his gaze. 

 His large palm went around my throat.

 "You know what I want to do with this mouth?" He said in a gritty whisper.

 I was breathless as I stared at his lips.

 "Why don't you show me then?" I returned, wondering where my courage came from.

 Was I daring him?

 His smirk was lethal.

 "Go on your knees. Now."

 That was an order. Ignoring the ache in my joints, I dropped slowly, my eyes stayed on his. The steam around us did not help with the heat I was building up in the pit of my stomach. 

 "Good girl."

 I felt my pussy tingle at the sound of that.

 He put his hands in my hair and drew me to his hard cock.

 "Prove to me this mouth is mine. All of you is mine."

 I took him in my mouth, gagging as it hit the back of my throat.

 I watched him shut his eyes and throw his head back slightly. 

 And just like that he opened his eyes and met mine in few seconds.

 "Don't break eye contact," he growled. "Not once."

 I stared into his eyes as my head bobbed back and forth. I sucked and licked on it like my life depended on it. Maybe it did.

 He could kill me and there was nothing anyone would be able to do it. 

 So like an obedient little play thing, I gave him the pleasure he wanted.

 At some point, he began to thrust into my mouth. 

 My jaw ached, so did my knees but I didn't stop until he let out a loud groan and came into my mouth.

 "Swallow it. All of it."

 I shut my eyes and took in every drop that I could. 

 He pulled me up shortly after. 

 I thought he was done. But no. He made me lift my leg till it was wrapped around him as he fingered me steadily.

 I held in my moans. 

 "I want to hear it. Moan for me." His whisper guttural. 

 I let out a moan that was foreign even to my ears.

 "Yes." 

 When his thumb rolled around my clit, I felt my eyes roll to the back of my head.

 "You want this don't you?"

 "Yes," I said shakily almost on the verge of pleading. 

 He dipped another finger into me instead, making me gasp. His pumps became faster. And for the first time I had an orgasm from what would be regarded as foreplay. 

 I almost lost my balance as my body trembled but he held me in place. When I recovered, I felt his burning gaze on me. He seemed amused by my reactions. My cheeks burned in embarrassment.

 He turned off the shower, wrapped me in a towel and pressed a kiss to my forehead just before he walked out of the shower.

 I let out a breath as he left. Now that was an experience.

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