right beneath us, and I found myself up out
of my seat, peering over the railing to get a better look at the
fight. I didn’t notice at first that I was cheering along with the
rest of the crowd—my cries of delight and encouragement were as
intuitive as breathing. Watching the fight was the most absolutely
exhilarating experience of my life. I felt my muscles tense and
relax along with Anderson’s, as if our bodies were in sync.
As if he could sense my longing attention,
Anderson let his gaze travel up into the crowd and land on me. The
breath left my lungs as he gave me a quick smile and a devilish
wink. I very nearly toppled over the railing into the pit as I went
limp with desire for that brilliant fighter, that rippling god of a
man.
My gleeful cheering turned into a scream of
terror as Maelstrom lunged toward Anderson and got a grip on his
leg. Anderson fell onto his back, taken by surprise. The second
he’d spared for me had cost him dearly. For a moment, Anderson was
blocked from sight by the sheer mass of Maelstrom falling on top of
him. But just as Erik was raising a fist to pummel that gorgeous
face, Anderson brought his legs up hard and flipped Maelstrom head
over heels into the sand. This time, Anderson didn’t hesitate. He
came down on top of Erik like a pile of bricks, pinning him to the
sand and landing blow after furious blow. Erik tried to knock
Anderson from his powerful position, but the falling punches were
too much. I watched as blood began to stream from Maelstrom’s nose
and mouth, his arms and legs moving less and less.
“Can’t he submit?” I asked Robert.
“There’s no such thing,” he answered.
I watched as Maelstrom finally fell still.
Anderson wrenched himself up off the man and raised his arms in a
gesture of victory. The crowd was raging for him, stomping and
screaming. A cry of joy escaped from my throat, even as Erik lay
bleeding in the sand. I was elated, beside myself with glee, and
all over a fight. But not just any fight, a fight where my own
personal hero had triumphed once again. Anderson circled the pit,
grinning up into the thunderous crowd. He looked like one of those
classic Greek heroes, just returned from war. He looked absolutely
invincible.
I now understood why wealthy high-born ladies
in ancient Rome used to throw themselves at victorious gladiator
slaves. How they were willing to pay exorbitant purses and
practically begged to be fucked raw by violent and animalistic
fighting champions. Anderson could have taken me right then and
there, bent over the railing in front of a thousand
onlookers…that’s how bad I wanted him in that moment.
Two men came to help the nearly unconscious
Maelstrom out of the pit, and Anderson hurried to help them get the
big fighter on his feet. The two men exchanged a brief word, and
Anderson patted Erik on the back as he was being carted out of the
pit. I felt a huge swell of pride rise in my chest. My hero wasn’t
just an excellent fighter—he was an honorable man.
As Anderson disappeared from sight into the
bowels of the stadium, I tried to take in the enormity of the
crowd’s elation. Everyone was charged with adrenaline and readying
themselves for the next fight. It was infectious, the energy. I
turned eagerly to share my excitement with Robert, but when I sat
back down and turned my attention his way, I was taken aback by his
cold expression. He was looked straight ahead over steepled
fingers, his eyes like two pieces of flint. My stomach tightened
with an unaccountable fear of this steely man.
“Is something wrong?” I asked.
He didn’t even swing his gaze my way as he
said, “Oh, yes. Quite.”
“But, I don’t understand...” I said with a
hopeful smile, “He won! Anderson absolutely destroyed that guy. Did
you see the way—?”
“He was taken down,” Robert growled, “He let
that ape bring him down the ground. That is entirely
unacceptable.”
He turned toward me, gripping the arms of his
chair
of my seat, peering over the railing to get a better look at the
fight. I didn’t notice at first that I was cheering along with the
rest of the crowd—my cries of delight and encouragement were as
intuitive as breathing. Watching the fight was the most absolutely
exhilarating experience of my life. I felt my muscles tense and
relax along with Anderson’s, as if our bodies were in sync.
As if he could sense my longing attention,
Anderson let his gaze travel up into the crowd and land on me. The
breath left my lungs as he gave me a quick smile and a devilish
wink. I very nearly toppled over the railing into the pit as I went
limp with desire for that brilliant fighter, that rippling god of a
man.
My gleeful cheering turned into a scream of
terror as Maelstrom lunged toward Anderson and got a grip on his
leg. Anderson fell onto his back, taken by surprise. The second
he’d spared for me had cost him dearly. For a moment, Anderson was
blocked from sight by the sheer mass of Maelstrom falling on top of
him. But just as Erik was raising a fist to pummel that gorgeous
face, Anderson brought his legs up hard and flipped Maelstrom head
over heels into the sand. This time, Anderson didn’t hesitate. He
came down on top of Erik like a pile of bricks, pinning him to the
sand and landing blow after furious blow. Erik tried to knock
Anderson from his powerful position, but the falling punches were
too much. I watched as blood began to stream from Maelstrom’s nose
and mouth, his arms and legs moving less and less.
“Can’t he submit?” I asked Robert.
“There’s no such thing,” he answered.
I watched as Maelstrom finally fell still.
Anderson wrenched himself up off the man and raised his arms in a
gesture of victory. The crowd was raging for him, stomping and
screaming. A cry of joy escaped from my throat, even as Erik lay
bleeding in the sand. I was elated, beside myself with glee, and
all over a fight. But not just any fight, a fight where my own
personal hero had triumphed once again. Anderson circled the pit,
grinning up into the thunderous crowd. He looked like one of those
classic Greek heroes, just returned from war. He looked absolutely
invincible.
I now understood why wealthy high-born ladies
in ancient Rome used to throw themselves at victorious gladiator
slaves. How they were willing to pay exorbitant purses and
practically begged to be fucked raw by violent and animalistic
fighting champions. Anderson could have taken me right then and
there, bent over the railing in front of a thousand
onlookers…that’s how bad I wanted him in that moment.
Two men came to help the nearly unconscious
Maelstrom out of the pit, and Anderson hurried to help them get the
big fighter on his feet. The two men exchanged a brief word, and
Anderson patted Erik on the back as he was being carted out of the
pit. I felt a huge swell of pride rise in my chest. My hero wasn’t
just an excellent fighter—he was an honorable man.
As Anderson disappeared from sight into the
bowels of the stadium, I tried to take in the enormity of the
crowd’s elation. Everyone was charged with adrenaline and readying
themselves for the next fight. It was infectious, the energy. I
turned eagerly to share my excitement with Robert, but when I sat
back down and turned my attention his way, I was taken aback by his
cold expression. He was looked straight ahead over steepled
fingers, his eyes like two pieces of flint. My stomach tightened
with an unaccountable fear of this steely man.
“Is something wrong?” I asked.
He didn’t even swing his gaze my way as he
said, “Oh, yes. Quite.”
“But, I don’t understand...” I said with a
hopeful smile, “He won! Anderson absolutely destroyed that guy. Did
you see the way—?”
“He was taken down,” Robert growled, “He let
that ape bring him down the ground. That is entirely
unacceptable.”
He turned toward me, gripping the arms of his
chair
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