Page 27 of Filthy Royal

She peered down at him, a sweet, shy smile on her face. “I think you are too.”

Everything about her was soft, exquisite, addictive.

His mouth trailed over her core, his tongue delving between the slippery folds and holy fucking Goddess, he’d tasted nothing better.

And when she clamped those gorgeous thighs around the sides of his face and lifted her bottom, he felt like more of a champion than he’d ever felt winning a fight. His chest puffed wide, his reason for being now perfectly fucking clear.

Following her cues—and those sensual little sighs—he used the flat of his tongue to work the area just beneath her clit as he built her pleasure.

With a brother like Alexi, he’d learned a thing or two about pleasing a female in the abstract.

But practice makes perfect, and he planned to practice a lot from here on out.

“Yes. Oh, Damien. Yes.”

He would never get enough of hearing her say his name like that.

Or the soft, sexy vibrations issuing from her throat: his omega’s purr. His soul responded, rumbling back to create a song that was uniquely theirs.

He took his time, holding her hips down when she got too squirmy, feasting, relishing, calling on every bit of his discipline.

Because every time she rolled her hips and made that sweet purring sound, his shaft only grew harder, his knot more swollen.

His dick didn’t seem to get the message that release wouldn’t be happening any time soon.

No, it kept urging him to thrust inside her. Or jerk off all over her and rub his essence into her skin. Or sink his fangs deep into her throat.

The instinct to claim her with his fangs, cum, and cock a primal drumbeat he could barely keep from answering.

Except the instant he did, it would be game over.

No tournament. No prize money. No Scarlett.

And that was unacceptable.

So, he’d keep his leathers on, his dick tucked inside, and pour all his need, all his hunger, into making his female scream his name.

Many times.

Starting now.

Pressing her hips down—he noticed she got even louder when he restrained her—he skimmed his tongue over her swollen clit.

She went ballistic. Legs spread wide. Hips lifting.

He fucking loved it—and rewarded her by pinning her down harder, lapping at her clit faster.

Until she shattered, her gorgeous tits heaving as her body twitched beneath his palms and her essence spilled onto his tongue.

He’d never tasted anything sweeter.

When she tried to wiggle away, her fingers tugging at his hair, he grabbed the ends of the restraints and took control of her arms, wrapping the ties around each thigh to pin her wrists to her legs. “Again.”

She went fucking wild after that.

7

SCARLETT

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