One day, as you were throwing things on his head as you always are, he'd had enough. He threw the glove he was holding onto the floor and looked at you.

"What?" Asked you slightly shocked. He then told you to stop doing that. "Oh, I-im sorry. I was just joking. D-did I hurt you?" You looked up at him.

"You didn't hurt me." He said slightly serious.

You stepped back again. "O-oh, did I bother you? Like you don't have to train me-"

He shook his head firmly, stepping closer to you. "Stop." He said, interrupting you before you could say anything else. "No, that man made you say sorry for the last three years. You're not saying sorry to me."

You looked up at him and said slightly whispered. "Oh, okay, but why are you mad?"

Dheo stepped closer to you and put his fingers gently around your neck and slowly pushed you against the wall. He leaned in, his gaze locked on you, and growled, "I'm mad because every time you throw something at me, I have the urge to throw you over my shoulder and take you home."

You were left speechless, your voice cracking out, "What?"

"You heard me." He said, his teeth clenched, as he held your gaze intently.

"What are you doing?" You asked, feeling a mix of worry and excitement.

He moved even closer to you, leaning in, and spoke in a firm voice, "I'm telling you to tell me to stop." Your heart raced as he approached, your breath quickening with each moment passing. You tried to stay calm and collected but it was hard.

"So, what will it be? Should I stop?" Dheo's voice was thick with desire as he closed the remaining distance between you, his body pressing against yours. His fingers tightened around your neck, the firm yet gentle touch sending a spark of heat through your body.

"Answer me," he demanded, his gaze locked on yours, "Do you want me to stop?"