Chapter 57: A bet is a bet

Bunny spun around and attempted a sweeping leg kick, which he also dodged with ease.

She forced herself to calm down and look for openings. Feinting one way, she threw an uppercut toward his jaw while simultaneously driving her knee hard toward his groin.

The scheme was seen through instantly. With a sidestep and a clean backflip, he avoided both attacks perfectly. His cold mockery brushed past her ear:

"Attacking the lower body is a dirty move."

Throughout the entire exchange, Cyrus kept his hands casually tucked in the pockets of his combat trousers—he never even took them out.

She gritted her teeth. "Show-off bastard."

"Your three free moves are over."

He no longer intended to go easy. The next time she lunged at him, he clamped her wrist, executed a shoulder throw, and pinned her beneath him with a knee so she could not move.

He released her quickly enough, giving her room to try again.

Yet no matter which angle she chose for a sneak attack or assault, she could never get close. She was continuously suppressed, back-thrown, and body-slammed.

She finally collapsed onto the rubber floor, feeling as though every bone in her body had been knocked loose.

Just as she was about to push herself up and continue, Cyrus’s combat boot suddenly planted itself right in front of her eyes. His teasing voice drifted down from above:

"Miss Guide, three minutes are up. You lost."

Losing meant she had to accept the punishment without complaint.

Her expression changed at once. Her mind instantly flashed back to the secretive things this pervert had done in the bedroom before.

Danger! Danger!

She scrambled up from the floor and met Cyrus’s lowered, amused gaze. That flawlessly handsome face looked no different from a devil’s in her eyes!

Her heart went half-cold. She spun on her heel and bolted for the exit.

If she couldn’t beat him, she could still run. So what if she was reneging?

Bang!

The combat room door was slammed shut by a powerful surge of mental energy. She braked hard, nearly smashing her nose against it.

A chill ran down her spine. Behind her, Cyrus’s low, hoarse voice drifted out:

"Baby... a bet is a bet."

She yanked the door twice with all her strength. It would not budge.

Like the heroine in a horror movie, she turned around in terror. Cyrus stood there like the male ghost of the film, staring at her without moving.

"Don’t come any closer!"

Please, she did not want to play role-play.

Classic horror-movie soundtrack music had already begun auto-playing in her head: dun-dun-dun...

Cyrus remained rooted in place with his hands in his pockets, face expressionless.

Yet the predatory hunger rising in the depths of his eyes had already completely betrayed him.

He had said it before—the more afraid she was, the more excited he became.

A cold gust of air swept past. In the blink of an eye, Cyrus teleported from several meters away to right in front of her face.

His nearly two-meter height pinned her firmly against the door. She still tried to flee, but he seized both her wrists and pressed them to the door so she could not move.

The sheer disparity in strength was enough to inspire pure fear.

Instinctively, she swung her free hand hard toward his face, but the man’s speed was clearly greater, and he already knew what she intended to do.

Now both of her hands were locked firmly against the door.

"I haven’t even told you what the punishment is yet, and you’re already this scared?"

The scent of scorched wood carried an innate black, forbidden quality. At first it was slightly bitter, then it settled into a deep, cold fragrance that easily clouded a person’s mind.

She tilted her head up. From her angle, she could only see Cyrus’s sharp jawline and those deep, shadowed eyes.

He seemed to have no next move.

"Then why are you pinning me like this?"

His knee suddenly pressed forward with force. The black combat boot quickly and assertively claimed the space between her legs.

"Was it this position yesterday?"

She tried to repeat the old trick and kick him in the crotch, only to find her thighs locked just as tightly.

"What?"

Cyrus stared at the woman’s stubborn, furious face and suddenly decided that a little forcefulness was sometimes quite interesting.

Teasing her was fun.

He turned her chin toward him. "Kissing."

"Isn’t this the teaching style Miss Guide likes?"

Their bodies were pressed so close that the scorching heat of his breath and the hard heat of his chest continuously invaded her pores through the fabric of the training clothes.

"Even if you were the last man left on Terra, I still wouldn’t kiss you!"

She glared at Cyrus with all her might. If looks could kill, he would already have been sliced into a thousand pieces.

His gaze darkened. His eyes lingered and ground over the woman’s soft, tempting pink lips.

Tch. The only hard thing on her entire body was her mouth.

It seemed the nickname San had given her was accurate—she really was a little Tyrannosaurus.

Without warning, he slipped one arm around her waist, hoisted her over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry, and walked toward the center of the combat mat.

After setting her down on the floor, he simply leaned over her, bracing his strong arms on either side of her head and firmly pinning her legs.

"Cyrus, what are you doing?"

Stray black strands of hair fell across his forehead, partially hiding the playful look in his eyes. "What else can a woman and a man do when they’re alone in a room together? Miss Guide, do I need to teach you that as well?"

The boomerang had come back and hit her squarely.

She panicked. "I’m warning you—if you dare force me, I will never forgive you for the rest of my life!"

Cyrus adopted a completely unconcerned rogue attitude. "Who cares? Get the satisfaction first and worry about the rest later."

She screamed, "A forced fruit isn’t sweet! Get lost!"

"Whether it’s sweet or not—won’t we know after one bite?"

Without the slightest tenderness, he yanked the zipper of her training jacket all the way down. With a sharp riiiip the outer garment was tossed aside.

Tears immediately welled up in her eyes.

What followed, however, was a heart-rending series of pig-like squeals.

Cyrus was performing post-training stretches on her, loosening the muscles.

For a complete beginner like Bunny, failing to stretch after intense training could easily lead to tendon damage and was also necessary to relieve muscle soreness.

Otherwise, she would be in so much pain when she returned to her room that she wouldn’t even be able to get out of bed.