Alien Caller (16 page)

He took the
opportunity to trip her while the momentum of her spin rolled her
onto her stomach. She fell like a sack of potatoes, but even as she
fell she was still trying to twist in mid-air. She had no hope as
her arms were still spinning the wrong way from the impact with his
shoulders. He guided her face down to the mat, not giving her the
chance to get out of it.

“Had enough? Do
you yield?” He put his foot on her backside and applied weight, a
lot of it, pinning her from above and behind. He had second and
third thoughts about pinning her like that, knowing it would only
make her more angry, but it felt so good that he couldn’t resist.
Besides he told himself, her anger would go through the roof,
keeping her off balance. It was a useful strategy.

Her tail
thrashed angrily and her arms struck out repeatedly as she tried to
reach him, but his leg was beyond her reach. That plus the string
of abuse in whatever language she uttered it told him it wasn’t
enough.

“I yield.” She
finally spat the words out, but he knew nothing could be further
from the truth.

He sighed and
stepped quickly away, letting her rise, while he readied himself
for her next attack. He knew after her humiliation she would be
angry, and she would come back harder than before, prodded
especially by the memory of his footprint on her derrière. But
hopefully she would be off balance, and her attack would suffer for
it.

Her attack
wasn’t long in coming. She glared at him and lunged, a direct
attack with no fancy spins, and it almost caught him for its speed.
Fortunately she had struck too low again, trying to take out his
midriff. He had just the presence of mind to dive over her, push
her head down under him and then come crashing down directly on
top. They hit the floor with a serious thump and he heard her
exhale as the breath was forced out of her lungs. He winced as he
heard the sound, knowing from experience how much that ached. But
at least it would be a while before she recovered enough to attack
again. All while he was sitting on her backside. To add insult to
injury he grabbed both her legs and tied them up in his arms. When
she did recover she would still be totally helpless, the only
weapon she had left to strike at him with, her tail.

“Nice try. But
you’re too angry. You forget my height and remember my weight and
think me slow. If you’re going to go direct, go level so I can’t
push you down or backwards.” He felt silly as he spoke directly
into her calves, but he was certain she heard even through her
rage. It had been an angry strike, not well thought out, and she
was once again trapped underneath him, her arms pinned under his
thighs, head forced roughly into the mat, and her entire torso
pushed down by his body weight. It was a good lesson and one he was
sure she’d learn.

“I yield.” This
time she was angry, but with herself. Whether she liked it or not
she knew she’d made a mistake. Sighing again he got up and stepped
quickly away, resisting the temptation to just lie there and let
her suffer. Besides he had begun to enjoy the view and he knew that
soon she would have known his enjoyment. Better that she never
found out.

In time she got
up, and he disliked the look in her eyes. There was a worrying
calculation there. She would not go down so easily again. If she
went down at all.

The third time
she approached more cautiously, cutting the distance between them,
giving herself the advantage of her superior reflexes. It was a
good strategy. Six inches from his nose she stared him down
directly and he knew he was going to take some punishment. A sudden
punch in the solar plexus was his first warning, and then suddenly
she was completely inside his defences, turning his midriff into a
punching bag.

But once again
she’d overplayed her hand and forgotten his height and weight
advantage. She was too close. He simply put his hand to her
forehead, pushed her backwards and again as she fell he rode her to
the ground. Once there it was only split seconds before he had her
arms stretched out beyond her head on the floor, while his feet
looped across her stomach to hold her.

Three out of
three. He congratulated himself, but then as a gentle but insistent
pressure made itself known to him, discovered with horror he had
been too hasty. Much too hasty. Somehow as he had ridden her down,
she had slid down lower still and taken his manhood into her mouth.
He could feel the razor sharp tips of her fangs as they delicately
pierced the denim of his jeans. His back went cold, and he started
to sweat, a lot.

“I yield!” He
almost screamed it out as he struggled to get away, and was
rewarded with a smile on her face. For the longest seconds of his
life he thought she wasn’t going to stop. But in the end she let
him go while he hurriedly inspected himself. No blood found he
started breathing again.

“Delicious.”
Her smile grew even wider and he started backing away, giving her
the advantage. In twenty years of fighting he’d never even
considered anyone trying something like that, and it rattled
him.

“You expect me
to fight like a human, and you think yourself so superior. You grow
careless anticipating me to be where you expect. But please don’t
worry. I don’t want to hurt you either, much!” She threw his words
back at him and they both knew she was regaining the control of the
match. And there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. Not when
she was prepared to do something like that. To make it worse he
knew she was right, he hadn’t allowed for her to do something so
completely different, and she had played him like a sap. She had
come in close and let him play his height advantage deliberately,
and he had fallen directly into her trap.

Not giving him
any time to recover, she attacked with a lightning set of twirls,
determined to break what little remained of his concentration. All
his years of fighting and training still somehow kept her at bay,
as he deflected them. Block after block prevented her fists and
feet from connecting, but all the while he was only operating with
a fraction of his mind, and as a result going steadily backwards,
and she knew it. She was overcoming him with her speed and
determination. And the fact that he was still living with the image
of her chewing into his balls.

It made him
angry. In a fit of desperation he tried a sweeper, ducking and
swinging his leg around to knock her legs out from under her. It
was an ancient ploy, but it worked perfectly. She fell once more on
to her backside, and he quickly rolled her back onto her stomach
and pinned her arms behind her back. From there it was a short step
until he was sitting on her backside her arms twisted behind her
back and she was totally helpless.

“You may be
tricky Cyrea, but I’m better. Even when you’ve got me rattled, when
you’ve snuck one through, even when you’re putting everything in
and a lot more besides, I’m too powerful for you. Too well trained.
And you can’t use that trick twice.”

She screamed
her fury, a cry that would have put a grizzly bear to shame, and he
knew that this time she wouldn’t accept that she was down again.
She had been winning and now to be once more on the floor was
simply not acceptable. Instead she began trying to rock him off her
with a series of violent but useless heaves while he regained his
composure and his breath. It was fully ten minutes before she
yielded, ten minutes that let him recover mentally and physically
while she exhausted herself. Ten wonderful minutes.

“I yield.”
Finally she spat the words out and he let her go, reluctantly.
Rising to his feet he moved back to his corner of the room and
waited. Three to one in his favour. He was still doing okay. Yet
this time he was given a little extra time as she started swinging
her arms, trying to recover the circulation. About the tenth set of
swings he became concerned that he might have hurt her, and a rush
of anxiety filled him. But when he asked she just waved him away.
The message was clear. His help was not wanted; ever.

Her next
assault was what he’d expected her to open with, a simple
high-speed rush with claws extended. No dives, no fancy moves, just
straight out speed, which she had in abundance. This time he
changed his tactics, knowing she would be ready for him, and simply
dodged out of the way, feeling her pass by him like a jet fighter.
He had just the presence of mind to nudge her shoulder as she
streaked by, sending her reeling off balance. She suddenly found
herself careening into a wall. It was a big thump as she hit it and
bounced off. The wall buckled, and she fell to the ground in a
cloud of plasterboard dust, holding her shoulder. He had the
terrible feeling she’d broken it.

“Oh shit, are
you all right?” He panicked at the thought of her being hurt and
the fight just went out of him. Without thinking he went to her to
see if he could help and suddenly found himself flat on his back
with her claws at his neck while she quickly straddled him. Her
legs had somehow looped under his, and pulled them apart,
preventing him from rolling her off. He instinctively grabbed at
her wrists and held them at bay preventing her from choking him, or
clawing his throat out, but in turn she just eased backwards,
pushing her entire upper body weight into the downward force of her
hands on his throat.

“Quite all
right, thank you!”

He wanted to
tell her she was cheating, that he had only been trying to help,
but she knew that. She had tricked him and there were no rules
about that. Especially when he’d already told her she was
tricky.

The worst of it
was the smile as she knew she was finally winning, and he refused
to give up. He simple couldn’t. It was a close contest. He was very
strong and she wasn’t that heavy, but trying to hold her away from
his throat as she forced herself down on him was difficult. A task
that would become more difficult by the minute as his muscles
started cramping.

“You yield?”
She was asking him early knowing that even now when he still had
plenty of strength, he ultimately had little choice, that sooner or
later his arms must tire, and she would win. Her smile said it all;
she had him. She would ask again and again he knew, until he
finally yielded, letting her press home her advantage. Then it
would be three to two. Still in his favour, but not by much. He had
to admire her determination, and the look of excitement in her eyes
as she waited for the kill. It was a look he had once worn.

He shook his
head and prepared himself for the long run. Her arms too would
tire, as she supported her own weight on them. All he had to do was
out last her, a hard ask, but not impossible. And there was no way
he was going to give in.

But in their
intensity they had both forgotten one thing; that he was a man and
she was an attractive woman who he had his manhood pressed hard
against. His usual reaction was taking place, and David groaned
silently. To be in this position, being soundly beaten by her, and
then to be attracted to her as well, it was simply unfair. She was
just winning on so many levels.

Or was it? The
dark thought came out of nowhere and brought a crooked smile to his
face. If she could ball bite him, perhaps he could return the
favour and watch her squirm. Suddenly he knew how to use his
reaction to unsettle her. Once again there were no rules.

“Actually
Cyrea. I’m somewhat enjoying this position.” He flexed his hips
against her, making sure she understood what he meant, and enjoyed
the look of surprise that darted across her face.

“It’s quite …
delicious.” While he pretended to have hunted for the word, it had
been there in the back of his mind all the time, and he enjoyed
watching her reaction to it. Just to make it better he smiled
broadly, and was rewarded by her scandalized expression. Finally he
had found a way to enjoy his natural reaction to her, knowing she
couldn’t object.

But was she
truly shocked by him, or by her own reactions to him? There was
something in her eyes that said she too was enjoying the closeness
whether she wanted to or not. And while she recoiled mentally, he
noticed her hips didn’t move an inch away. He rubbed some more,
finally enjoying something about the fight.

“I could stay
here all day. Unless of course you want to yield.” He put it out
there for her to play with, knowing she could never take the offer.
For the first time she thought she was in charge of the situation
and there was no way in hell she’d give that up. He quite liked
that part of her nature.

“Yield? Did you
hit your head somewhere? I’ve got you right where I want you, and
you know it even if you’re too pig headed to accept it. Now you’re
just trying to shock me. To get me to back off. But it won’t work.
It won’t save your sorry skin. But please don’t stop just because
it won’t work. After all, I can enjoy this just as much as you.”
Just to emphasize her point she rubbed herself against him, setting
his manhood on fire. She was trying to convince him that it was
only him who felt that way. But by the looks of it she was setting
herself alight as well.

“Oh I wasn’t
going to stop.”

“Neither am I.”
The challenge had been issued and accepted, and they were both
determined to carry on, until one or the other lost. Or, as the
niggling thought in the backs of their minds whispered to them,
until they both won.