Page 44 of Filthy Royal

That was all it took.

He came down her throat, whispering her name, his muscles rigid, his veins corded, his body so beautiful that it stole her breath.

He was so raw and masculine and filthy. And all hers.

She’d never been so happy.

She only hoped it would last.

11

DAMIEN

Rotation four of the tournament

Damien stared down at Scarlett, watching the rise and fall of her chest, the soft colors playing across her skin as she dreamed.

It was fucking official. He was a total creeper. And totally gone for this omega.

He’d never realized before she came into his life, but he had a serious fixation with taking care of his omega. Hearing her make those soft, sweet sounds, seeing the trust in her gaze as he pushed her limits and made her cry out his name, satisfied something deep inside him.

After so much time spent breaking bones and doling out pain, it was pure fucking joy to hold something so delicate and beautiful in his hands and bring pleasure instead.

He planned to spend the rest of his life doing exactly that—once he won the tournament.

His palm trailed along the curve of her shoulder. “Time to wake up, gorgeous.” He hated to do it, but he needed to get her back to her room before the guards changed and someone less bribable came on shift.

She woke slowly, a dreamy smile on her face. “Damien?”

“Right here.” He tucked a strand of red-streaked hair behind her ear. “Sorry, beautiful, but I need to get to the mats early. This is the last round before the main event. I want to make sure I’m limbered up and ready to go.”

Scarlett sat up fast. “Of course.” In the next heartbeat, she was up and pulling on her sleeping gown, her movements absent of their usual grace.

He stepped in front of her and tipped her chin to meet his gaze. “Just a little longer, beautiful, and we’ll never have to leave each other again.”

“Right.” That forced smile was back.

“You okay?”

Without warning, she threw herself against him, her arms squeezing tight. “Let’s not wait. Let’s run now.”

He stiffened. “Run? Skolovs don’t run.”

“But each rotation we stay is a risk.”

He wrapped his arms around her. “But we can’t turn tail now. If we tough it out for one more rotation, I’m going to win this and have it all.”

She stiffened, and he internally cursed his fumbling. He’d gotten the words all wrong. He was just on edge; the stakes had never been higher. And sometimes… sometimes it was starting to feel like he really was just a too-cocky, eighteen-planetary-rotation-old youngling with no idea how the galaxy really worked.

But fuck that.

Scarlett was counting on him.

He had this.

Cupping her face in his hands, he tried again. “What I meant to say is, this money is for us, so I can take care of you and our family forever. The reputation is so I can ensure I’m big and bad enough that everyone we care for will be safe. Best of all, winning legitimately means we won’t have to be hunted from one end of the galaxy to the other by the Consortium, fearing they’ll take you from me.” He traced the delicate lines of her cheekbones. “We can live with my family for good—and your brother can visit whenever he likes. You’ll be mine by right. And I’ll be yours.”

She relaxed against him. “That will be nice.”

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