Jack Wins?

Instead of starting to hit her, I moved closer, pressing her body against the ropes, and kissed her: a deep, tender kiss, my tongue savoring her taste. She didn’t have the strength to resist and melted into that kiss; her gloves slid down my shoulders, then across my chest, before falling away entirely.

“Come here,” I said softly, taking her by the hand and guiding her away from the corner and toward the center of the ring.

Our hands clasped and caressed each other, our fingers gently intertwined—a sweet yet tense embrace. Then they parted abruptly.

“Are you ready?” I whispered, brushing her jaw with my thumb.

“Go ahead, try me.” she whispered, but her voice was faint, her posture unsteady with pent-up desire.

We circled each other in the center, exchanging light, almost ceremonial blows as we repositioned ourselves. My jab grazed her guard; her cross grazed my cheek. I parried her hook, responded with a body shot that made her bend slightly, and closed in again. I grabbed her by the shoulders and leaned down to kiss her.

She offered no resistance—neither physical nor sexual—and was clearly loving every single second of it.

“I love you,” I admitted, finally speaking the truth, and continued to kiss her—a deep, tender kiss, her lips tasting of sweat, copper, and lavender. Her.

She melted into my arms; her gloves slid down my hips, and her body pressed against mine. I held her there, reassuring her, my arms wrapping around her in a clinch, my hands brushing her face.

Then I took a step back.

She looked at me, dazed, her eyes unfocused and barely in focus, her lips swollen and parted. I raised my glove, positioned myself, and threw an uppercut—perfect, controlled, aimed at her chin with just enough force to make her rise onto her tiptoes, but without overdoing it. A perfect punch.

It hit her squarely, causing her to snap her mouth shut, her eyes rolling back, and her whole body going limp like a rag doll. She collapsed backward, her golden gloves falling off, her naked body hitting the canvas with a dull thud, her white hair scattering around her like a halo.

And she came again. Her pussy released a violent squirt, seeping through the now-ruined bikini bottom she still had on.

I stood over her, my chest heaving, my cock still hard, my whole body trembling with love and desire, admiring what I had just done.

“One,” I counted, moving closer to her and positioning myself between her legs, which were spread wide apart.

Her eyes were half-closed, her breathing ragged, her body completely still except for her hips, which swayed to the rhythm of orgasmic spasms, reaching upward for the touch of something. I rested my foot on her pussy, letting her finish her ongoing orgasm and bringing her hips back down to the ground.

“Two.” I leaned toward her, giving her a kiss that then slid downward, over her breasts and her stomach, which had been battered by my fists. I could feel a vibration inside her, as if her womb were purring.

“Three.” I removed her now-soaked panties. She moaned softly, her hips twitching, her inner walls quivering against my fingers. I began to finger her pussy. I kept my touch light and teasing, bringing her back to consciousness just as I counted her.

“Four.” I positioned myself between her legs, my penis pressing against her entrance. She was limp, barely reacting, but her body welcomed me, her wetness coating the tip of my penis.

“Five.” I sank deep inside her with a single, slow thrust, moaning at the tight warmth of her body, at the way she surrendered herself completely even in her unconscious state. I began to move—with gentle, undulating motions—my hands gripping hers, pinning them above her head.

“Six.”

Her eyelids fluttered, her lips parting on a soft gasp. I bent down, kissed her, my tongue brushing hers as I continued to move inside her.

"Seven."

"Jack-" she breathed, barely audible, her gloved hands fighting against mine. I let one go and she puts it on my chest, faking resistence, feeling my muscles move in rhythm with my thrusts.

"Eight."

I sped up slightly, my hips snapping with controlled urgency, my whole body tensing toward release. She was fully waking up, her body responding, her hips beginning to meet mine with weak, desperate movements.

"Nine."

"Going to- going to come-" she whispered, her voice breaking.

"Ten," I said, and thrust deep, my orgasm crashing through me as hers crested, our bodies convulsing together, my seed flooding her in hot waves while she cried out beneath me, her seventh orgasm ripping through her with violent intensity.

I collapsed forward, my face buried in her white hair, my gloved hands tangled in hers, my cock still pulsing inside her fluttering walls.

“I won,” I whispered in her ear, my voice tender and triumphant. “Now you’re mine, Ellie.”

She laughed softly, almost unconsciously, as her hand stroked my hair with gentle affection. “You trickster,” she whispered. “You said you loved me. I got distracted.”

“I can’t hide the truth,” I admitted, planting delicate kisses on her jaw, her throat, her breasts.

“At least it was worth it,” she murmured, closing her eyes again as her body relaxed completely beneath me. “It was worth losing to you. It was beautiful, exciting. Just what I wanted.”

I held her there, still inside her, our bodies united and exhausted, the gym silent around us, while I felt a little guilty for making her lose yet another match. But as I felt her heartbeat slow against my chest, her breathing steady in exhausted sleep, I realized I’d rediscovered the spark I’d been looking for—no, I’d found something more—something worth more than any ranking.

I’d found love.