Jin Di hit the floor hard, his back slamming against the cold marble as Elena came down with him.
She was on top of him in an instant.
Her fists rained down on his chest. Nails raked his neck and shoulders. Fabric tore as she clawed at his shirt like she wanted to peel him open and reach something vital underneath.
Shock flared through him, but he didn't raise his hands to block her.
He didn't roll away.
He didn't even try to protect his face.
He stayed there and took it, jaw clenched so tightly it ached, swallowing every grunt of pain that tried to escape.
She was stronger than she looked. Each blow landed with real force.
Strangely, though, every time her hands shot toward his face, they seemed to jerk aside at the last second, crashing into his collarbone or ribs instead. It was as if something inside her was fighting the urge to truly hurt him.
