A/N - The song described in this Chapter is Satisfaction by Benny Benassi (the first track on the album Hypnotica). If you've never heard this before (and even if you have!) I highly recommend you listen to it either before or while you read this. I think this particular song perfectly sets the mood for this part of the story and I was listening to it on repeat while I wrote this... Enjoy!
https://play.spotify.com/album/4eSPyoe4GB3qeKYzx81fP5?play=true&utm_source=open.spotify.com&utm_medium=open
It's quite a small room, but there's everything in here you would need to do a good work out.
No windows mean all the light is provided by harsh overhead fluorescents. At one end, is a huge wall to wall mirror and a big selection of free weights are just in front of this. I stifle a grin thinking about him pumping iron while checking out his reflection.
At the opposite side of the room is a small selection of exercise equipment; a treadmill, a rowing machine, an exercise bike and a few other resistance type machines I'm not familiar with.
In the centre is a number of large, thick mats laid out in a rough square and to one side there's two huge punch bags strung from the ceiling to the floor. Next to them is a water cooler and a locker.
Eric doesn't speak, but goes straight to the locker and pulls out a sleeveless vest. Still facing away from me he pulls his t shirt over his head and I'm awe struck. If I thought he was ripped with his top on, it's nothing to how he looks with it off. Even just looking at his back, I'm mesmerised by the way his muscles ripple as he raises his arms to pull the vest over his head.
He starts to wrap something around his hand, but from this angle I can't properly work out what it is. Without really thinking about it, I slowly approach and step to the side so I can see what he's doing. He's carefully wrapping bandages round his knuckles.
"Are we going to fight?" I didn't actually think he was being literal when he said we were going to fight it out of my system.
"Think you can take me on darling?" He glances at me sideways with an amused look on his face.
"Darling?!" Did he really just call me that? Perhaps he's just being patronising. In my current state it's hard to even think straight, but regardless I can tell that he's acting weird. I'm pretty sure if anyone else was around he'd be an entirely different person. I'm so wired and on edge I can't even begin to process why.
He smirks, but doesn't respond. Instead he grabs a hold of my left hand and starts to wind a bandage around my knuckles. His touch is surprisingly gentle and he takes his time, making sure he does it properly.
"Other hand." He lets go of my left hand and indicates I should give him my right hand.
"Are we really going to fight?" I ask, taking deep breaths to steady myself. My heart is beating so fast it feels like it's going to explode through my chest.
"We'll see," He chuckles, and once again I'm struck by how attractive he is when he smiles. "Let's start with some training. I've no trainers that would fit you so shoes off."
He steps back and quickly kicks off his boots and socks. I follow his lead and bend down to take off mine. I'm pretty sure he's checking me out again as I do. Pervert!
As I stand back up I see he's stepped over to a panel on the wall I hadn't noticed before. He hits a few buttons and music starts to blare over the speakers.
The beat is loud and repetitive, and seems to reverberate through my entire body.
Push me
and then just touch me
til I can get my
Satisfaction.
Push me
and then just touch me
til I can get my
Satisfaction.
Satisfaction.
Satisfaction.
Satisfaction.
I've never heard music like this in my entire life. Amity music is upbeat and happy, but it's generally vocal based with someone accompanying them on a guitar or banjo. They don't call Amity members banjo-strummin softies for nothing.
This on the other hand is hard and raw, and both the instruments and vocals seem to have been manipulated to give an electronic edge to the sound.
"Come on then Amity, let's see what you've got."
He takes a step back and crouches low, bringing one fist up in front of the other. I automatically mimic his stance, but I'm unsure of what to do next. Is he expecting me to hit him? I take a step forward towards him and he easily side steps me to the right, laughing.
"You've never hit anyone right?"
"Not like this!" I shudder, thinking of the time I punched an Erudite boy in the face at school for teasing me. The Amity leaders had been absolutely horrified at what I'd done.
He drops out of the stance and comes closer to me.
"Keep your hands high to protect your face," He instructs, demonstrating by raising his own fists. "And you want to use your forearms to block your opponents attack."
Slowly, but still with some force he brings his arm down to collide with mine to show what he means.
"Block with your forearms and attack with your elbows," He brings his elbow up sharply into the space between us. "If your fighting someone bigger or stronger that's your best bet. You've not got enough muscle or weight behind you to throw a decent punch."
"Cheeky bastard!" I exclaim before slapping my hand over my mouth. The words are out of my mouth before my brain can stop them. I can't believe I just said that to a Dauntless Leader.
Thankfully, he doesn't look mad. More amused than anything else. He tilts his head to one side and raises his eyebrows. He steps back and drops back down into a crouch, raising his arms once more.
"Hit me then Amity."
"I have a name you know." I snap, wondering if I actually have the balls to punch him.
"I know you do darling."
"It's not darling either." I mutter, adjusting my weight from one leg to the other.
"Princess?" He smirks, and I genuinely want to wipe that smirk off his face.
He's just taunting me now and I know it. Trying to get me riled up enough that I might actually punch him.
Well if that's what he wants.
I step forward and to the left, before quickly throwing my weight to the right and swinging my fist forward with all my weight behind it. I'd hoped to fool him, but I was stupid to think I could better him.
Before my fist can even make contact he grabs my arm and pulls me round sharply so my back collides with his hard chest. He keeps hold of my right arm pulling it tight into my chest and his left hand grabs my hip roughly, ensuring that I stay pulled back flush with his body.
My breathing is heavy and my heart is still racing. It's not like I've done any real exercise yet so I can't blame it on that, but I'm not sure if it's the effect of the drug he gave me or the close physical proximety to him. He's so close I can feel his breath hot and heavy, giving me goose bumps as it hits the bare skin on my neck.
"Nice try, Star," He murmors, emphasing my name, his lips are brushing my ear he's that close. "Wanna see how it's really done?"
Before I have chance to respond, he lets go of me as suddenly as he grabbed me and I stumble forward. He strides forward, and immediately starts to hammer one of the punching bags. He doesn't pause, as he hits it again and again with no rest. The force that he slams his fist into the bag with is terrifying and incredible in equal measures. He doesn't stop, and the sweat starts to pour off him from the sheer exertion and effort he's putting into it.
After several minutes he finally starts to slow, and eventually stop before putting his hands to his knees as he breathes deeply, trying to get his breathing back under control.
"Wow." I don't know what else to say. I am genuinely impressed. Coming from Amity I've never seen anything like it. I've never seen any man like him.
And I'd be lying if I said it didn't turn me on.
He laughs, and that sexy half grin half smirk is back. It would appear that like most men, he's not immune to flattery.
"Your turn." He states, pushing himself back up to standing.
I step forward and stand awkardly infront of the bag. He sighs and steps up behind me placing his hands on my hips and pulling me round so I'm stood at more of an angle. He uses his foot to nudge my feet apart so I'm forced to adopt a wider stance. He reaches infront and takes each of my hands in his so in effect he's wrapped himself fully around me, his chest once more pressed hard into my back.
Slowly, he starts to move my hands, helping and encouraging me to start punching the bag. Gradually, he starts to speed up as I get into a rhythym before taking a step back so I'm on my own.
I don't stop; I try to maintain the rhythym he started for me. The music helps. I understand now why he must listen to this sort of thing when he works out. The repetative beat helps me loose myself in what I'm doing.
I keep going until I'm physically exhausted and have no choice but to stop. The sweat is literally pouring off me and I'm forced to take huge deep breaths in an effort to get enough oxygen into my body.
I turn to him, and the look he gives me is enough to send chills through my body. His eyelids are hooded and desire is written all over his face. For a moment I'm actually scared. He's like a feral predator, his eyes wild and dangerous. I take a step back towards the mats, trying to widen the space between us but he steps with me. He's not going to let me get away that easily.
As soon as we are back on the mat, he drops back down into fighting stance and I have no choice but to do the same.
"Hit me again," He says, his his voice low and gravelly. "Like you mean it this time."
I step towards him and his eyes watch my every move. I try to move with an element of surprise and swing suddenly. To my amazement my fist connects briefly with his jaw.
But before I can even think about doing anything else, my legs are swept from under me and I land heavily on my back. He's on top of me in an instant, pinning me to the ground with my arms over my head. He's easily got hold of both of my wrists in one hand and the weight of his legs as he kneals over my hips means I'm not going anywhere.
Our entire bodies are in physical contact and I'm hyper aware of how close he is to me. He's breathing as heavily as I am, and I see his eyes flicker to my lips and back again.
Shit, does he want to kiss me?
I'm overwhelmed by the sensation of both Eric and the effects of the drug that is still pumping through my body. I can't think straight, but right now all I know is that I wish he would kiss me, consequences be damned.
I don't break eye contact, as my tongue darts out to lick my lips before I slowly bite my bottom lip. I see him take a sharp intake of breath as I do it, and he looks quickly to lips again.
"Fuck it." He hisses, before crashing his lips into mine. I'm unprepared for the assualt of his lips roughly moving against mine as his tongue demands entrance into my mouth. It's like someone has flipped a switch in my brain and my whole body comes alive. Whoever made that drug wasn't kidding when they said I'd either want to fight or fuck.
I start to forcefully kiss him back, moving my hips against his as he slides his free hand down my side and onto my hip. There's nothing gentle about this, but it's exactly what we both want. Rough, hot and incredible.
He lets go of my arms, and I immediately bring my hands up to his hair, pulling him closer to me. His every touch, every move of our bodies together feels incredible.
He plants rough kisses along my jawline, nipping at my skin as he works his way down my neck. I gasp as he finds the sensitive spot just above my collarbone and I arch my back up to him, desperately trying to get more.
I literally feel like I'm going to explode. The drug really is acting like a stimulant, heightening all of senses. My heart is beating so fast I can barely breath. Every kiss that he plants on me, every touch of his hands is so exquisitely intense I could scream.
"Eric," I push at his chest. It's too much. Too intense. "I can't breathe."
He half pulls up, resting his weight on his forearms, a puzzled expression on his face. I need air. It's so overwhelming and I'm starting to panic.
I try and push myself up but my head starts to spin and the last thing I remember is the look of horror on his face as my eyes roll back in my head and I pass out.