He Is A Good Coach

ELENA'S POV;

The rain spluttered against the window, and the cold wind blew against my skin, but I continued to punch the bag. It was dark, and the moon cast its light through the window into the room. The sound of my fist echoed in the room with a steady rhythm. Training for three weeks straight hadn't been easy, but it was all worth it because I felt better, stronger, harder. My emotional instability decreased...things I hadn't even cherished about myself like the scars on my flesh didn't even matter to me anymore. I didn't try to hide it, I didn't get too conscious, I didn't hate myself like I used to and I knew it was all because of one thing, and that thing was the consistency I put in building up myself. I remembered Leo's words...they kept echoing in my ears.

I had to admit, he was a tough coach. He never went easy on me, not even once and Antonio supported it. I knew the reason Antonio allowed Leo to train me. I've seen the way Antonio trains, I've seen the way he combats. He's as brutal as any man to his foe. Even Leo had a hard time dealing with him. Antonio was getting me prepared, prepared for him...but I didn't know yet...how was I going to handle him if I couldn't still handle Leo? Leo was brutal...really brutal but Antonio....was deadly brutal. I wouldn't be surprised if he used a gun to train me, I wouldn't even be surprised if he shot me in the leg like he did Leo so he could be better.

Damn Antonio, because I didn't understand how I could be attracted to a man like him. He gave me goosebumps every time he touched me, I couldn't get him off my mind. And perhaps it could be because of how he had saved me from my sexually abusive uncle. It could be because of how he treated me like a princess even though he was hard-hearted to every other person. I just knew that there was something amazing under that facade of his. He was tough, he had a heart.

My instincts kicked in as I sensed a presence, instantly raising my leg to kick this man in the head. He was quick, parrying my kick. I adjusted my stance swiftly, ready to counter his next move but he caught me by the hand and pulled me to his chest whispering something incoherent in my ears, sending shivers down my spine, but I didn't allow that to control me, I instantly elbowed him in his solar plexus, causing him to loosen his grip on me. I took advantage of that and released myself, ready to land another blow but he was too fast and strong, twisting my hand behind me, this time not giving me the space to attack with my arms. I groaned and instead jerked my legs backwards, hitting him in the groin. I heard him groan and release himself once again.

Once more, he was quick to recover and we circled each other in the dark room, watching ourselves intently, and with precision. His movements were honed and calculated, quite different from what I was familiar with. The sound of my heavy breath filled the room, whereas he didn't even seem to have broken a sweat. I made the first move, and as he blocked every one of my hits, I moved, strike after strike while he effortlessly blocked every one of them. I was beginning to get frustrated.

As we exchanged rows of punches and kicks, the impact reverberated in the air. Adrenaline surged through me as my senses heightened and my reflexes sharpened. I aimed each blow at his vulnerable spots, trying to exploit his weaknesses, but unfortunately for me, he didn't leave himself open. He tarried all my moves like he could predict them. But I really didn't want to lose this combat to him, so I persisted even though I was getting really tired. My training sessions had really been helpful, especially turning out to be this good in three weeks, it wasn't an easy task for me at all.

I tried to analyze his movements, but he seemed like he'd already analyzed mine and had seen the spot to exploit, but he didn't come for me like I did him. He was calm, waiting for my next strike. Every feint and dodge was met with a calculated response from him and it made me completely confused. Could he predict my moves? I couldn't read this man, I didn't know why he was here at this time of the night. I didn't know why he chose to attack me. But I was determined not to lose to him. Offence and defence... offence and defence, a constant dance...a delicate balance of quick thinking and split-second reactions. It seemed as though he was going easy on me because at this point he didn't hesitate to pull me to himself and hug me tightly from behind.

"Not bad. You've gotten tougher." I tried to get out of his grip but he tightened it. I wasn't comfortable, I actually was tempted to relax because I've missed this, I've missed him. For three weeks straight, we haven't had sex and I could tell it was toiling against him, even against me. I didn't know how much until he touched me. But I wasn't going to give him that satisfaction just yet.

"I have to practice, now is not the time," I said.

"I love how you find it easier to talk back. Perhaps my dick would fit in this time with ease." I gasped and tried to move away but he pulled me back to him. "If you keep struggling you'll be forced to finish what you started." He said and I gulped.

"But I'm not your slave." I slightly whispered.

"No, you're not, you're my wife and it's your duty to pleasure me any time I want." His voice darkened and I could feel my core aching.