Clearly she was commenting on his choice of women, because he definitely met some pretty high standards himself. This time keeping the grin on his face was slightly harder as she went in for another joint lock. Chris hated those with passion and usually he made sure his opponent couldn't even get that far, which was still infuriatingly impossible for him. If you wrote down his moral codex it wouldn't be enough to cover the important parts of a Playboy centerfold, but one thing was printed in bold, capital letters: Never raise your hand against a woman. As he lay on the floor, Spunky on top of him with her clothes still on, he wondered if that applied to a fight in the ring. Technically this was a different world and she wanted it. So in a way this would be like extremely rough sex, just without taking clothes off and definitely less satisfying.
He growled as she bit him, this was definitely crossing all sorts of lines. The fact that he did nothing to throw her off, although he probably could, was quite something. In a twisted way he enjoyed this way too much and it pissed him off. He was finally in fighting mode, muscles coiled like springs, and circled her for a little while, looking for an opening. Either he would tap her or get her to tap out, maybe even both. He wouldn't mind. Since there was a lack of walls close by he could pin her against the floor would have to do and he moved forward, aiming a right hook at her face, tightly controlled so his fist stopped less than an inch away from her face. Counting on her to concentrate on her defense he used his momentum from the punch to spin around, reaching for her arm so he could throw her over his shoulder. He wanted her under him again and it took his last bit of restraint to keep from tearing off her clothes. "I like you better down here, darlin'." he growled, his face right over hers. Before he pried himself away from her he gave in to temptation and bit her bottom lip. Not hard enough to draw blood but still far from gentle.