Page 163 of Filthy Royal

“Yes,” she whispered.

“And this.” He took her hand, wrapped it around his cock. “This belong to you?”

Her palm squeezing just hard enough to pull a low grunt from him.

“Scarlett,” he growled, “words.”

“Yes.” Voice thick with need and awe, she stared into his eyes as her thumb glided over the plump, full head. “This belongs to me.”

“That’s right.” His hips rocked forward, pushing into her hold, his expression fierce. “To you. Only. Always and forever.”

“I missed all of you so much.” She squeezed harder, her clit throbbing, her arousal an acute ache that only amplified with the thick, heavy weight of him in her palm.

“You’ll be reunited with it all. But first…” Gaze intent, he dragged her hand from his cock and up his chest to press her palm over his beating heart. “This belong to you too?”

“Yes.” Humbled, filled with wonder, possessiveness, and pride shimmering through her, she answered without hesitation. “Just like mine beats for you. Only you. Always and forever.”

“Fuck, yes.” A breath shuddered out of him, the look on his face—hunger and need, tenderness and hope—ripped her apart and built her anew.

Without warning, his expression shifted, growing fierce, and before her next breath, he grasped her bottom and lifted her from the water. Droplets flew in all directions as he pinned her to him and dragged her core over the outside of his shaft, handling her with ease as he worked her slick from head to root, getting him wet for her. “Time to begin again, baby. Time to let me inside. All the way this time.”

Scarlett knew he wasn’t just talking about her pussy.

“Yes.” She dug her fingers into his strong back, rocked with him, mesmerized by the beauty of him, the wet, warm heat of their surroundings, and the agonizing sharp edge of joy he gave her with every word, every touch, every command.

And that was it. That was the thing with a storm like Damien. He churned up every emotion: the good, the bad, the ugly, and the beautiful. But for the first time in a long time, she wasn’t afraid to drown in it, to hold up her head and let his strength and force of will pour over her, soak into her skin and lift her up, help her to believe.

Maybe, just maybe, there was a different fate in store for her than the one she’d once assumed was her only ending.

Maybe, even with everything that had happened, with everything she’d done, with every obstacle that still lay before them, she and Damien could have always and forever.

“It’ll take some work, and some slick and spit, but I’m coming in.” He grunted as he covered his cock with more of her slick. “I’ve had my fingers inside that sweet little pussy. I know just what a tight little hole you have, so we’ll take it nice and slow, but it will be worth it.”

She’d accept any pain to finally have him inside her. “Please, Damien. I need you. Now.”

“If this is a dream, I never want to wake up.” He turned them around, water splashing everywhere, his back pressing against a large, wet rock. Then suddenly, his hold was steadier, the angle even better.

She moaned low. “Damien.”

“Put me where I’m meant to be, Scarlett.”

Slipping a hand between them, she gripped his cock and tilted her hips in his hold, rocking back and forth until he sat notched at her entrance.

Finally.

Their gazes locked.

“This mine too?”

“Damien—”

“This. Mine?”

Her free hand cradled his jaw. “Yes.”

“Forever?”

“And always.”

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