The Last Round

Chapter One - Fifteen Years Earlier

Sutton's POV -

"Come on, Sutton, it's just one night! Your book will still be there when we get home. Just try and have some fun, okay? You always have your nose in a book when there's a whole world to explore."

Ruby, my older sister and personal pain in the ass, tugs on my arm, pulling me through the swarm of people packed into the underground fight club.

I huff. Loudly. "I would much rather be reading about dragon shifters finding their fated mates than standing in a warehouse filled with sweat, beer, and testosterone."

She rolls her eyes. "God, you're such a nerd."

I glare at her. "Excuse me? I am not some glasses-wearing, corner-hiding nerd. I just... prefer other worlds to this one."

Ruby grins like she's won. "Which is why you need this. Trust me, Sutton, it'll be worth it."

Doubtful.

But here I am.

She's been harping at me for weeks to come with her, and since her boyfriend, Lane, is already inside waiting for us, I gave in.

We weave through the sea of bodies, pushing closer to the cage in the center of the warehouse. The air is thick-sweat, adrenaline, the metallic tang of blood.

"Ugh," I mutter under my breath.

Ruby doesn't care.

She grabs my hand, dragging me closer. "Hurry up! This is the main fight! They're supposed to be badass. This one guy, Iron, is so hot."

I groan. Wonderful.

Lane spots us as we get closer, a cocky grin stretching across his face. He wraps an arm around Ruby's waist, kisses her quickly, then turns to me.

"Hey, kid. Glad you came."

I narrow my eyes. "Kid? Lane, I'm only five years younger than you."

He laughs, ruffling my hair like I'm some little sister he's tolerating.

I slap his arm, chuckling. "You're twenty-four, not forty. Stop acting like a grandpa."

Ruby snickers.

But then-the announcer's voice booms through the speakers.

"Ladies and gentlemen, your main event of the evening-"

The crowd erupts, bodies pressing in tighter.

"In the red corner, weighing in at two hundred and twenty pounds of pure destruction-IRON KANE!"

The energy in the room shifts.

A heat slides down my spine. Anticipation. Excitement.

And then I see him.

I forget how to breathe.

Oh. My. God.

The man stepping into the cage is straight out of a fantasy novel.

Tall. Built like a god. His entire upper body is inked, tattoos covering his chest, creeping up his neck, curling down his arms like shadows.

His black hair is messy, like he ran his hands through it before stepping into the ring.

His face-sharp jaw, full lips, dark, unreadable eyes-is absolute sin.

And his body?

Fuck.

Broad shoulders, rock-hard abs, thick, powerful thighs beneath low-slung black shorts. He looks like he was built for destruction.

The tattoos make it worse-or better.

They look alive under the lights, twisting with every flex of his muscles.

"Wipe your chin, you're drooling," Ruby teases, nudging my side.

Damned if I don't actually wipe my chin.

But who could blame me?

Then it happens.

One second, I'm looking at his side profile, taking in every devastating inch of him-

And the next?

I'm staring into his eyes.

My entire world tilts.

His gaze locks on me, burning into my skin like he just decided I belong to him.

I freeze.

The crowd disappears. The noise fades.

It's just him and me.

Jaxon Kane takes a slow step forward, moving toward my side of the cage like he's drawn by some invisible force.

I swallow hard.

Then-he points at me.

My stomach drops.

I glance behind me, confused.

No one else is looking.

I turn back.

He shakes his head. Smirks.

Then points at me again.

My fingers hover over my chest. Me? I whisper.

He nods.

And then, using two fingers, he gestures for me to come closer.

My heart slams against my ribs.

Lane nudges me. "Holy shit, Sutton. Go."

I take a slow step forward.

Then another.

Then, somehow, I'm crouching beside the cage, close enough to see the sweat dripping down his inked skin, close enough to smell leather and cedar and the lingering trace of cologne.

He bends slightly, lowering his voice so only I can hear.

"What's your name, beautiful?"

I malfunction.

My brain stops working.

My tongue betrays me.

"I-uhh-I'm..." I swallow. "Sutton."

A smirk tugs at his lips, and damn if I don't feel it between my legs.

"Sutton," he repeats, like he's tasting it.

His voice is low, rough, dripping with amusement.

"You got a man, Sutton?"

I shake my head. "Um. No. No man."

His grin deepens.

"Good."

I blink. "Why?"

Jaxon lifts his hand, cups my chin, tilting my face to the side.

He points past me. "See that door over there?"

I nod slowly.

His fingers tighten just slightly before he tilts my face back toward him.

"Meet me there after the fight."

His mouth brushes against mine.

Just barely.

A whisper of a kiss. Soft. Gentle.

A promise.

Then he pulls back.

And I swear, I forget how to exist.

"See you soon, beautiful."

Chapter Two - One Year Later (Age 21)

Sutton's POV

I place the last book on the shelf and step back, taking in the space that is now mine.

Ours.

Jaxon's apartment-our apartment.

The reality of it settles deep in my chest, warmth spreading through me like a slow burn.

I never thought I'd be here. Living with him.

Being his. Fully, completely, no hesitation.

A strong pair of arms wraps around my waist from behind, pulling me against a solid, familiar heat.

I shiver as warm lips press a slow, deliberate kiss to the side of my neck.

A deep, gravelly whisper follows the kiss, sending a delicious shiver down my spine.

"Welcome home, baby."

I melt.

Jaxon's hands move, one sliding up, wrapping loosely around my throat, his fingers a possessive weight.

The other drifts down, tracing over my stomach, slipping beneath the waistband of my shorts.

I whimper, my breath hitching as he slides his fingers lower, teasing the edge of my panties.

"Jax..." I whisper, my thighs clenching instinctively.

He smirks against my skin, his lips ghosting over my pulse. "Already wet for me, baby?"

His fingers dip inside, brushing over my pussy, rubbing slow, lazy circles against my clit.

I gasp, my knees buckling slightly.

His grip tightens, keeping me upright, keeping me his.

His mouth brushes against my ear, his voice low, dangerous.

"Come to bed with me."

It's not a question.

It's a command.

I nod instantly.

I don't even get a chance to respond before he spins me in his arms, gripping my thighs.

I gasp as he lifts me, my arms snapping around his neck.

He carries me like I weigh nothing, moving with effortless strength.

The second we step into our bedroom, I know I'm not getting any sleep tonight.

Jaxon throws me onto the bed, making me bounce slightly, a breathless laugh spilling from my lips.

It dies immediately when I see the look in his eyes.

Dark. Hungry. Desperate.

"Take your clothes off," he orders.

I shiver, my body already obeying.

I slide my shorts down, followed by my panties, peeling my shirt off next.

Jaxon watches me like a predator.

He yanks his own shirt over his head, exposing his hard, tattooed chest.

I barely get a chance to appreciate the sight before he's on me, pinning me to the mattress, his mouth devouring mine.

Hard. Desperate. Bruising.

I moan into the kiss, my fingers dragging down his chest, nails scratching over inked muscle.

He groans, grabbing my hands, pinning them above my head.

"You gonna be a good girl for me tonight, Sutton?"

I whimper, nodding.

Jaxon leans down, his breath hot against my lips.

"Say it," he growls.

"Yes, Jax," I whisper. "I'll be good. I promise."

His eyes darken, his grip tightening. "Damn right, you will."

He trails his mouth down my neck, sucking, biting, leaving marks.

I arch beneath him, whimpering, panting, desperate for more.

His hands move, sliding over my breasts, squeezing, rolling my nipples between his fingers.

I gasp, the sensation making my back arch, my body aching for him.

He moves lower, his lips closing around a sensitive bud, sucking it into his mouth.

I cry out, my hips bucking.

"Fuck, Jax."

He grins against my skin.

"You like that, baby?"

"Yes."

His other hand slides between my thighs, spreading me open.

"Let's see how much you like this, then."

Then-his mouth is on my pussy.

I scream his name, my fingers flying to his hair, tugging hard.

Jaxon growls against me, his tongue flicking over my clit, sucking hard.

I thrash beneath him, pleasure slamming through me.

"That's it, baby," he groans. "Fucking ride my face."

I whimper, grinding against his tongue, lost in the feeling of his mouth.

His fingers push inside me, curling just right.

"God, you're so fucking wet," he groans. "You dripping for me, baby?"

"Yes," I gasp. "Yes, Jax."

His tongue works faster, his fingers thrusting deeper, stretching me.

"You gonna cum for me, baby?"

I nod frantically, my body already on the edge.

"Do it," he orders, his voice wrecked. "Cum for me. Let me taste it."

I shatter.

My back arches, my thighs trembling as pleasure explodes through me.

Jaxon doesn't stop.

He licks me through it, his fingers teasing me, milking every last drop.

By the time he pulls away, I'm panting, trembling, completely wrecked.

He flips me onto my stomach, dragging me onto my knees.

His cock nudges against my entrance, thick, hard, ready.

"You ready for me, baby?"

I whimper, nodding.

He grips my hips, holding me still.

Then-he thrusts in deep.

I cry out, my fingers clenching the sheets.

"Fuck," he groans, his hands gripping me harder. "Your pussy is strangling my cock."

I moan, pressing back against him.

Jaxon snaps his hips forward, fucking me deep, rough, raw.

"This what you need, baby?" he growls. "Need me to fuck you like this?"

"Yes," I gasp. "God, yes!"

His fingers find my clit again, rubbing fast, pushing me to the edge all over again.

"You gonna cum for me again, baby?"

I nod frantically. "Jax, I-oh God, I'm gonna-"

"Do it," he growls. "Cum on my cock. Now."

I explode.

A scream rips from my throat, my body locking up as waves of pleasure crash over me.

Jaxon groans, his hips stuttering.

Then-he roars.

His cock thickens, pulsing, spilling deep inside me.

He thrusts one last time, burying himself to the hilt.

We collapse together, sweaty, tangled, completely spent.

His lips press soft kisses all over my face.

His voice is low, raw, wrecked.

"I love you so fucking much, Sutton," he breathes. "I'm gonna make you so fucking happy."

I press a kiss to his jaw, smiling.

"I already am."

If only I knew how much of his words were a lie.

Chapter Three

Six Months Later – The Night He Destroyed Me

Sutton's POV

Something was wrong.

I'd felt it for days-this gnawing, hollow distance. The way Jaxon barely touched me anymore, the way he avoided my eyes like I'd become someone he couldn't bear to look at.

Jaxon was never cold. Never distant. He used to touch me like I was his air. He used to hold me while I read, kiss my shoulder while I cooked, pull me into his lap just to breathe me in.

But now?

He hadn't touched me in two days. Hadn't kissed me. Hadn't even told me he loved me.

And tonight, I was done pretending it was fine.

I stood in the living room, arms crossed, waiting. The tension in my chest had me nauseous. I heard the deep growl of his car pull into the driveway, the metallic grind of tires over gravel. My heartbeat stuttered.

He walked through the door like a stranger.

No smile.

No "Where you at, baby?"

Just... silence.

His shoulders were hunched, his head down. No eye contact. Not even a nod.

"Not now, Sutton," he muttered, brushing past me.

My stomach dropped.

He went straight to the fridge, pulled out a beer, and twisted the cap like I wasn't standing in the middle of the room breaking into pieces.

"No," I said sharply, the sound of my voice cracking. "Now."

He paused but didn't turn.

"You haven't even looked at me in days. Haven't touched me. Have I done something wrong? If there's something going on-"

He finally looked at me.

And I wished he hadn't.

Because the man who turned to face me wasn't the man I loved.

It wasn't my Jaxon.

It was cold. Empty.

"Can't a man have a beer without his bitch of a girlfriend jumping down his throat?"

I froze.

My mouth opened, but the words didn't come.

Bitch?

He'd never called me anything but baby, beautiful, my girl.

That word hit me like a slap.

And still, I held on.

"Talk to me," I begged. "Please. Just tell me what's going on. I can't fix this if you don't let me in."

He took a sip of his beer, then sighed like I was a burden.

"I don't want to do this anymore."

The room tilted.

"I want you out. You've got a couple of hours to pack your shit. I'll be gone. When I come back, I don't want to see you here."

"What?" I whispered.

My legs wobbled.

He turned, started for the door.

No. No, I wasn't letting him walk away without giving me the truth.

I chased after him, my voice breaking. "Don't you dare walk away from me. Be a fucking man and tell me why. Tell me to my face why you're ending us."

He stopped. Turned.

And he shattered me.

"You want the truth?" he said. "Fine. I don't love you. I never did."

The first crack split wide in my chest.

"You've got that sweet, innocent thing going for you. The bosses thought you were perfect for PR. You were never anything more than a good image."

Crack.

"I met someone else."

Crack.

"She doesn't want to hide in the shadows anymore."

Then he looked me dead in the eyes and twisted the knife.

"And you? You're weak. You live in fantasy. In fucking books. You think love is some magical cure because it works in your stories-but this is the real world, Sutton. And you're too soft for it. Too fragile. You could never stand beside me."

My body physically recoiled, like he'd slapped me again and again and again.

"You don't belong in my world."

He said it like it was fact.

Like I should've known all along.

And I wanted to scream. To ask how he could hold me the way he did, how he could look at me like I was everything-and then throw me away like nothing.

But I didn't say a word.

Because the pain was too loud.

He moved past me to the door.

"You have two hours. I'm bringing my woman back with me. Don't be here when I get back."

The door shut.

And I broke.

My knees gave out, hitting the floor as a sob ripped from my throat. I couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. I curled into myself, gasping, sobbing, choking on the agony tearing through my chest.

I wanted to hate him.

I wanted to believe this wasn't real.

I wanted to scream that he was lying.

But I couldn't move.

So I stayed on the floor, holding the only thing he didn't know he left behind.

Our baby.

And I promised right then, between sobs and silence-

I would never let him break me again.