Page 117 of Filthy Royal

The rocks stopped falling.

“Are you hurt?” Dark, intense eyes bore into her.

Scarlett shook her head, shame making it impossible to speak.

“Answer me!” Hands clasped her jaw.

“I’m fine. But you…” Her voice hitched, her fingers trembling as they hovered over the cut above his eyebrow. “I’m sor—”

Damien dragged her to him, and before she could fully process his intentions, his mouth claimed hers.

Hungry. Intense. A demanding kiss that stole her breath.

She could not believe he was kissing her. And, even more shocking, as if he cared.

Desperate, her tongue tangled with his—and then she was on his lap, legs straddling him, writhing against him, her hands shoving beneath his shirt to touch warm, vital skin.

His body was a perfect fit against hers. Her body on fire, ravenous for every glorious taste of him.

Only to have him break away.

Scarlett whimpered, protesting his withdrawal—except then, face smeared with blood, he began kissing down her throat, beneath the delicate links of the throat chain, and across the tops of her breasts. His mouth closed around the tight bud of her nipple through the fabric covering her breast. His forceful sucks left her breathless. Her body shaking with lust.

Punishment. Caring. Degradation. Worship. She could no longer tell what this was. But she didn’t care.

She wanted it all. She wanted whatever he would give.

Her head knocked against the ground as he guided her downward, his body pinning her to the dirt, his mouth never leaving her skin, sliding down her belly. Over the torn fabric, finding every patch of exposed, needy flesh.

Not asking for permission.

But she gave it anyway, her hips lifting.

All she wanted was his mouth between her thighs. His tongue on her clit.

Just like before, four planetary rotations ago, when she was good, and there was nothing but hope and endless possibilities between them, and he’d held her like she was something precious.

His stubbled jaw brushed the inside of her thigh, his breath whispering across her slick folds, and she moaned, bucking from the sheer force of pleasure and anticipation.

And then his mouth was there, buried in her cunt. Devouring her as if he were starving. Alternating the flick of his tongue against her clit with deep plunges into her slick hole. Driving her wild. His intensity and ferocity as extraordinary as always.

She writhed against him, panting, her memories and imagined fantasies coming nowhere close to the bliss of this moment.

But it had always been that way with Damien.

Everything that had been black and white suddenly erupted into color, her body sparking back to life in a way it did only with this male.

“Oh gods, Damien.” She shuddered beneath his hold. “I-I’m going to come.” It had been so long; she was fucking desperate for it.

He growled low, his hold tightening, his tongue lapping faster. Demanding. Insisting.

It took no more than that.

Brilliant colors exploded behind her eyes, carnal, vivid crimson and violet chased by deep blue and yellow. Her hips jerked as she flew, pleasure cascading through her from head to toe, setting her free in a way she hadn’t been in four planetary rotations. Happy in a way she hadn’t been since he’d last been in the Golden Dome.

She was still soaring, her body tingling with aftershocks, when he flipped her onto her stomach. Two big hands wrapped around her hips and raised her to her knees.

Damien was going to fuck her. Now. Amidst the rubble.

---