Page 29 of Filthy Royal

Right. He didn’t need to carry her fears as well. So she did what she always did. She forced a smile and found the courage to endure. To pretend that she wasn’t terrified this would blow up in their faces.

Rising to her elbow, doing her best to lock down the swirling rush of nervous gold, yellow and gray hues that wanted to flash across her skin, she pressed a kiss to his nose. Then, flattened her palms against his chest, attempting to push him from the bed. “Go.”

He didn’t budge. Only growled.

It warmed her to know he was reluctant to leave. “The sooner you go, the sooner you can return to me.”

Scowl still in place, he blew out a breath as his fist hit the bed. “You’re right.”

“Get used to it.”

With a bark of laughter, he unfurled from the bed, stretching as he stood—and she almost whimpered aloud.

Damien’s muscled chest beneath her hands was a heady experience, but seeing him shirtless in all his glory was almost too much to bear.

The male’s body was truly spectacular, a chiseled masterpiece.

He scanned the room, striding over to the window he’d opened in the night. He shut it easily, his body so sculpted she saw every muscle in his back working as he moved.

She stifled another sigh.

“I want to make sure I don’t leave anything behind that will get you in trouble.” The worry in his voice snapped her from her lustful daze.

“Everything looks good.” She lay back on the mattress and placed her arms above her head. “I just need you to hook the restraints back under the bed.”

* * *

Damien

Damien stilled, his best intentions crumbling. “Not sure I can do that.”

The thought of leaving her already made him edgy.

Now the reminder that he’d need to tie her back up was enough to have his fangs punching at his gums and his body shaking with the urge to rip off the heads of every Alpha in the vicinity, gouging out their leering eyes for good measure.

“You have to.” Scarlett glared up at him as if she could make him move if he didn’t want to. It was fucking adorable.

Less adorable? The thought of Egan and the other fighters. He didn’t want them fucking near her, but he couldn’t exactly take care of them like he had her security.

One brief conversation let them know they had two choices: accept his bribe and keep their tongues, eyes and fingers by never touching his female again, or lose it all.

They’d smartly chosen the former.

But now…

“I’ll be fine.”

He hated when she said that.

“Go, please. If you get caught, you can’t win the tournament—or me.”

It was the only thing that pulled him back from the edge. “You’re right. Eyes on the prize.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“How about I just call you mine?” Damien leaped to the bed and scooped her up, his arm sliding beneath her legs while the other banded around her back, so he could hold her close, claiming her sweet mouth, relishing the way she melted against him, her soft tits pressing against his chest as their tongues tangled and he saw everything he wanted within reach.

Then, with a sigh, he ended the kiss too soon and tossed her easily into the air—and caught her once more, enjoying the way she laughed and threw her arms around his neck. She was light as a feather.

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