If you can come to my fight, you can come in my arms.

I promise. I promise, you have my heart, and you have me. You will always have me.

His eyes glow in the shadows as he slides the soft liquid semen dripping down my thigh in a path leading back into my swollen entry, as if he doesn't want to come out of my body. "Sticky?" he asks in a gruff murmur, bending his head and licking my shoulder as he pushes his semen back inside with one finger.

His dark hair is perfectly recklessly up today, those tanned muscles flexing as he extends out his arms and does his little turn. And here I am, my breath caught between my lungs and my lips as he turns around and scans the crowd. As soon as he spots me, his eyes come alive, as alive as I feel when he smiles at me. He holds my gaze while those dimples flash, and I swear he stares at me in a way that makes me feel that I am the only woman here.

It feels like he's marking me. Like he's preparing me for something monumental. That could both change and ruin my life.

You tie me up in knots. I want to play you a thousand different songs so you can get a clue of what... I feel inside me.

I used to dream of medals and championships, but now I dream solely of a blue-eyed fighter who one day changed my life, when he put his lips on mine. . .