Deli Art | Playing Dirty with Damon 🖤 (Patreon)

"Give up yet?" Damon smirks as he extends a hand to help me up, and with a defeated grumble I accept it, letting him pull me to my feet.

"How do you keep winning? Every. Single. Time."

"I'll take that as a 'I humbly accept my defeat, Master Damon, the most handsome and charming sparring partner of all time.'"

Damon imitates my voice and I roll my eyes, but I can't stop the small laugh that bubbles out of me. "I don't sound like that. And maybe if you put a shirt on..."

"Pfft. And miss out on distracting you with all of this?" He points to himself, and I try desperately to ignore the sweat that's shining flawlessly on the contours of his abs.

"That's part of my tactic, ya know."

"Yeah, I can tell," I mumble beneath my breath, getting into position once again and raising my guard.

Damon only chuckles at my reaction. "Sorry, sweetheart. Sometimes you've gotta play dirty to win."

I scoff at him impatiently, and he smirks again before mimicking my stance.

"And anyway, you weren't complaining about me putting you on your back last nigh-"

I lunge at Damon before he can finish that particular sentence, taking the offensive and striking at his guard, blow after blow. I tire quickly, the result of having trained all morning, and I don't notice when Damon kicks out and sweeps my legs from under me, before he launches forward and pins me flat on my back. Again.

"If ya wanna be on top, you've really got to work on your core strength," he teases me and my body heats in response to his, the knee he drags up further between my legs sending tiny pinpricks of electricity dancing across my skin.

Slowly, he lowers his face to mine and I ghost my lips across his, waiting for him to drop his guard before I hook a leg around his waist and force all of my energy into the move. I flip us both until he's landed back on the sparring mat with an 'oof' and I'm straddling his waist from on top, grinning down at him triumphantly.

"You're not the only one playing dirty."