Page 49 of Filthy and the Beast

I try to consider her advice. I came here for it, after all. But my brain rebels.

Damian needs the money. He needs a job.

And I don’t have a crush on him. I don’t get crushes.

At first, I didn’t think I needed him around the house, but maybe I do. Earns his keep for sure. There’s no charity in his paycheck. The girls are getting used to him being there. He helps cook, keeps my day in order. Everything is easier when he’s around.

Need him. Can’t need him.

“He’s there for work.” My confusion settles on something tangible and right. “And, yeah, I’m going to need the help when I’m training full-time.”

She sighs, not buying it. “If you say so.”

CHAPTERSEVENTEEN

DAMIAN

Enzo shudders with his orgasm,his strong body quaking as we suck each other. His fat cock swells in my mouth and pumps, semen pouring onto my tongue and dripping down my throat. Hitting my own climax, I groan, thrusting back into his mouth.

Light explodes, and heat consumes me from inside, shattering into pure bliss.

We’re on a couch in the front of the mansion, our bodies tangled. When I pull back for breath, I inhale his scent, rub against his firm muscles, and sink into orgasmic satisfaction.

“Damn,” Enzo growls, stroking my thighs. “Sixty-nine.”

“Sixty-nine,” I agree with a soft laugh. “What did you think?”

He wipes his mouth, grinning. “Fucking hot. A little distracting, trying to suck you right with your lips working my dick.”

I sit up, too. “I’d never have guessed you were distracted. Perfect form. I couldn’t be prouder.”

He grunts, but I know he likes the compliment.

It’s dark outside, well past sunset. Enzo has continued to behave like a perfect gentleman. He respects our boundaries, sits obediently when I make him talk about sex and his feelings, and always makes sure I’m as satisfied as he is.

Which I definitely am. Enzo is powerful, but he comes undone when we touch each other, and that combination thrills me. The push and pull between our bodies is electric, and the scrape of his hands, friction of his beard, and his rough strength send me over the edge, a tidal wave of surprising and unfamiliar sensations.

Only two nights until I move out.

Sadness weighs down on me, settling in my chest and troubling the warmth. I crawl up Enzo’s body to lay on his chest and cuddle him close, something he only seems comfortable with right after sex.

I need to enjoy it while I can.

He hands me my glasses, and after I put them on, I drag my hand across his chest. When my fingers brush his nipples, he twitches.

“You like it when I play with these,” I point out, rolling the hard nub.

Enzo pulls me tighter to his chest. “Guess I do.”

I keep toying with it, enjoying his reactions, his body already sensitive from the orgasm. “You didn’t know that about yourself?”

He thinks about it. “Guess not.” He pushes his forehead against mine. “I know it now, though.”

I kiss him. He opens his mouth, and I slide my tongue against his.

“Bodies are endlessly fascinating. There are all kinds of parts of you we haven’t explored,” I whisper against his mouth. My hand stays on his nipple, but I drag my mouth down his coarse beard, to his neck, his clavicle, his hard pecs. “You’re probably hiding all kinds of surprises.”

When I pinch his nipple, his breath gets tight. “Didn’t know how much I liked kissing feet until the other night.”

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