Page 42 of Filthy Royal

Soft shades of pink and orange melded with vibrant red, glowing from her skin and skipping across the wall as she rolled onto her belly, excitement and nerves washing through her in equal measure.

“Trust me, Scarlett.” His breath fluttered against her ear.

Then, there was a slight tug on her scalp as his big hands gathered her hair in one fist and he slid the hairbrush through the heavy mass.

Pure heaven. She sighed, relishing each stroke of the brush through her curls and corresponding ripple of pleasure down her spine.

“I love the colors of your hair.” His voice had dropped to a husky rumble, his slow strokes never ceasing. “I like knowing I’m getting it so pretty and perfect—so in a little while, I can wrap it around my wrist, mess it up, and use it to pump that sweet mouth up and down my cock.”

She whimpered, squirming on the blankets as slick pooled on her folds.

He continued brushing her hair. “You like that idea?”

“Yes.” She was desperate and needy for him already.

“Good.” He set down the brush.

Excitement whispered through her as she raised her head, already picturing herself on her knees, pleasing him just as he’d said.

“Not so fast.” He kept her pinned in place. “I am nowhere near done with you yet.”

Her throaty whine surprised her.

He chuckled in response. “You must be sore from all that dancing.” His big hands slid to her shoulders, kneading muscles she hadn’t even realized were aching.

“That… feels… so… amazing.” She melted beneath his touch.

“I think so too.” Warm liquid splashed onto her back. His hands traveled through the oil, spreading liquid heat over her back as the rough pads of his fingers dug in, hitting each muscle just right. “I know this might be hard for you to believe, sweet Scarlet, but the truth is I fucking love this.” He ran his fingers along the line of each rib. Worked his thumbs into the tight muscles of her lower back. “Taking care of you like this, having you under me, all soft and pliable, is the best feeling in the galaxy.”

Each sweet word sent her deeper into a haze of bliss.

She purred in sheer contentment and melted even more when he answered with his own low rumble, every stroke of his palms making her clit throb, intensifying her need.

“I have plenty of fantasies about all the ways I plan to rut and knot you.” His large hands kneaded her bottom. “But that’s not all. I’ve got just as many that play out like this.” He ran his hands along her thighs, his fingers massaging her overworked leg muscles. “With me making you cry out from all the different ways I can wring pleasure from you.”

“Mmm.” Her flesh tingled as his palms ran the length of her legs, over her buttocks, and up her spine once more. She floated on a cloud, soaring above the tunnels and the Golden Dome, to a place where it was just her and Damien. To a place where there was no tournament or Consortium. Where she was more than just a prize and they were both free.

“How do you feel, baby?” His touch lighter this time, he spanned the width of her back. “Relaxed? Horny?”

“Yes. Yes. So good.” Despite her best efforts, the words emerged slurred.

He grunted: the sound filled with pride—and a little awe. “I’m glad. I spend so much time causing pain with these fists. Here, in this room, all I want to do is bring us both pleasure.”

Her heart squeezed. Just when she thought she couldn’t feel any more intensely for this male, he surprised her. He was so much more than some big, cocky bruiser.

He was thoughtful and wonderful, and more than she had ever expected could be hers.

His hands explored every inch of her, his warmth and care seeping beneath her flesh. Until she was certain his touch burned into her soul.

“Did you enjoy the oil massage?”

She somehow found the strength to speak. “Yes.”

“How about the hair brushing?”

“Mmm.”

“I’ll take that as a yes too.” One hand lifted away. “You know, that’s not the only way I can use a hairbrush to give you pleasure.”

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