My Sister Stole My Mate And I Let Her (Seraphina) novel Chapter 38

Chapter 38: Chapter 38 POWER AND FIRE

MAYA’S POV

Fuck, he was hot.

I couldn’t help thinking that perhaps sparring wasn’t the physical activity I should be engaged in with my mate.

Surely those toned arms would be better served holding me up against a wall rather than throwing punches.

"I didn’t realize when you said combat, you meant a staring competition," Ethan said, an eyebrow raised as he eyed me from the edge of the ring.

I’d been wary of bringing him to OTS yet, so I’d chosen an MMA gym near my apartment. The smell of sweat and talcum powder filled the air, yet his scent still managed to evade my senses, setting Nyra on edge.

I let out an amused huff, turning my head away so he couldn’t see the heat crawling up my neck.

"Oh, don’t worry," I said, gripping the edge of my t-shirt and pulling it over my head. "You want a fight? You’ll get one."

I smirked when his eyes darkened at the sight of my toned torso in nothing but a black sports bra.

"Let’s get it over with," he said, his voice hoarse. "The sooner I pin you on the mat,"—he smirked—"the sooner I can pin you in my bed."

A thrill ran through me.

I’d dated around a bit, but none of them had given me even a quarter of the excitement I got just by standing in the same room as him.

Despite his snarky comment, I let my eyes run down his body one last time. He was stripped down to a black T-shirt that hugged his muscles deliciously and training pants, eyes burning with a singular focus that made my pulse skip.

Alpha. Dominant. Controlled.

The idea of snapping that control sent another thrill down my spine.

I didn’t wait for a countdown. I launched at him fast—no warning, no warm-up. His eyes flared for a nanosecond before he caught the fist I threw at his face.

Stepping to the side, he swung his arm around me, trapping me against his body. "That’s quite the punch you have there," he murmured into my ear.

His heat radiated around me, his grip tight around my body—unyielding, deliberate.

My first instinct was to sink into his embrace. My second was to fucking move.

Dropping my weight, I hooked my foot behind his heel and twisted sharply, using his momentum against him.

He stumbled just enough for me to slip out, twisting in his hold like water through fingers. My elbow jabbed into his ribs as I spun, and I ducked low, sliding behind him before he could recover.

"You always that handsy on a first date?" I said, breathless but smug.

He turned to face me, grinning like I’d just given him a gift.

"You call this a date?"

"I’m having fun." I smirked, cocking my head. "Aren’t you?"

He chuckled, low and slightly feral. "I’m about to."

Then he charged.

He was good, I’ll give him that. His instincts were honed, his blocks solid. But mine were sharper. Cleaner. I moved like smoke, struck like a blade, and for the first few minutes, it was beautifully even.

We circled each other, heat rising off our bodies in waves.

I swept my foot toward his knee, but he caught my arm mid-move and twisted, redirecting my momentum. I spun with it, rolled through the motion, caught myself on my hands, and kicked back up to my feet.

Sweat prickled at the base of my neck.

"You’re holding back," I said, breathless but goading.

"And you’re taunting me," he said, voice low and dark.

I shrugged. "Fair’s fair."

Then he stopped holding back.

His hits came faster. His control slipped. Not out of recklessness, but because his wolf was riled. Challenged. Drawn.

And mine? Nyra practically purred, loving the pressure, the proximity. The friction. It was a high unlike anything I’d ever felt before.

He tackled me mid-lunge, and we crashed into the padded floor. I twisted us before we landed, straddling him as we hit the ground.

My thighs caged him in, and he grabbed my wrists to flip us—but I shoved back.

We froze there—me on top, sweat-slicked and panting, bodies pressed together with nowhere to go but closer.

I could feel every inch of him against me, hard and hot and high-strung.

His gaze dropped to my lips.

Screw it.

I surged forward and kissed him.

It was hard and hungry—teeth and tongue clashing in fiery desperation and snapping restraint.

His hands left my wrists and found my waist, fingers digging in like he feared I was a flight risk.

Hands free, my fingers tangled in his hair, tugging, and he growled into my mouth.

He rolled us so he was now on top, pressing me into the ground, never breaking the kiss. I let him. Just this once. Just to see how it felt to surrender—to let someone else take the control I so rarely relinquished.

Somehow, inexplicably, it felt even more empowering.

When he finally pulled back, we were both gasping. His lips were shiny with my lip gloss, his eyes dark with a hunger I knew was mirrored in mine.

My pulse was a drumbeat beneath my skin.

"I won." He smirked.

I scoffed. "I pinned you."

I shifted my knee. "If you’re suspected of cheating, you won’t pass this trial." 𝒇𝒓𝙚𝒆𝔀𝓮𝓫𝒏𝓸𝙫𝓮𝓵.𝓬𝙤𝙢

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