Page 187 of Filthy Royal

She barely had time to register it before she was flipped around, her cheek pressed to the wall, her palms slapping against its cool, damp surface.

Damien’s hand followed close behind, landing next to hers, caging her in, while his other finger painted across her lower back, this time right above the taming chain. The same motions as before, and she knew he was making the same claim.

“Mine.” This time, he growled the word. “You got that? You told me you were mine. Same as I was yours. It might not be pretty. It might be forged through dirt and filth and pain and leave both of us marked, but that bond will never change. I don’t need fated-mate marks to know.” His thick thigh pushed between her legs, his body crowding hers. “Mine.”

Lust and need collided with desperation. “Damien, I-I don’t deserve you anymore.”

“You deserve fucking everything, Scarlett. As do I. And what I want is you.” His hands, now coated in mud, skimmed up her sides, light, careful, until he reached her breasts. He palmed them both, kneading them, marking them, the mud cool against her nipples as he rolled them between his fingers.

Her head fell back, striking his strong chest as a revealing moan escaped.

“That’s right, baby. This is what I want.” He ground his hips against her while continuing to play with her tits, and she thought she might come from that alone. “This is what I deserve. I’ve suffered enough. Paid my dues. It’s time for my reward, and this is it. My female, my wild thing, melting under my touch. Streaked in mud, my fingerprints all over her skin, making those sweet, sexy purrs. Giving me her. Giving me everything.”

Scarlett’s hips bucked, need coiling tight between her thighs.

His fangs dragged against her skin. “Not always pretty. Filthy, even. But that’s us.”

His hand moved down her belly. “Mine.” Over her hips. “Mine.” Across her ass. “Mine.” Stroked her clit. “Mine.”

Marking her everywhere as he drove her wild.

Until she panted. Shook. Desperate for him to come inside her.

“Damien, please.” She rolled her hips. Pushed back into the hard bulge at her back.

But he wasn’t done. “You think your darkness makes you unfit for me? Oh no, baby. It’s what makes you perfect for me.”

He smeared more mud onto her skin—and his. Wrote his claim on her body again. This time, so gently that she barely felt it, but she knew it was there. Just beneath her ribs, covering the bruises.

The twisted rightness of his lesson carved those words into her soul so deep she knew even when the words and the mud washed away, his message never would.

“Damien, please.”

“You wet for me, Scarlett?”

“Goddess, yes.” She was soaked, her thighs slick with far more than mud.

“Palms against the wall. Ass up.”

Scarlett did as she was told.

She heard the rustle of laces being undone, then firm hands grasped her hips and drew her back and up, lifting her onto her toes.

He drove inside. She whimpered, the sheer, extraordinary pleasure of him stealing her breath.

Damien was right. It might be messy, and it might be ugly. But this was them, and it was everything.

Her channel, even drenched and throbbing, worked hard to accommodate him, stretching as he thrust himself deep, his cock tunneling inch by inch until he was seated to the root.

Until both of them were panting. Her forehead pressed to the dirty wall, her arms trembling.

“This pussy knows too.” He pulled out slowly. Then rocked back in. “Mine.”

She gasped. Purred in surrender.

“That stubborn heart knows too,” he whispered, his voice softer than before.

Each thrust of his cock drove her pleasure higher, the need inside her spiraling until she was so close…

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