Page 45 of Filthy Royal

“It will be perfect.”

“Okay.” She nodded in his hold and forced one of those smiles he was coming to hate. “There’s just a single rotation, right? We’ve got this.”

“Yes.” He cleared his throat and did something he’d never done before, what a fighter was never supposed to do. He revealed his weak spot. “I need you to believe in me, Scarlett. I need it more than anything.”

She stared up at him, her solemn gaze suggesting she truly understood the significance of his words. “I do, Damien. I always will.”

The last of his doubts floated away. “Good. Now, tell me what you need from me, Scarlett. Tell me what I can say to make you feel as good as you’ve made me feel.”

“I’m not sure. Even believing in you, I’m-I’m still scared.” Her gaze shifted from his. “These next trials determine who makes it to the main event. Are you nervous?”

“No.”

She nodded. “What do you think of when you fight?”

“I zone out. Let instinct take over. What do you think of when you dance?”

She smiled, and this one wasn’t forced at all. It was pure, wicked temptation. “You.”

Just like that, he was hard. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” She swayed against him. “I think about how good it feels when you touch me.”

He ran his palm down the length of her spine and over the curve of her ass. “Soon, I’ll be touching you all the time.”

“And I’ll touch you right back. No crystal pane between us. No one to tell us we can’t.”

He gripped her ass and lifted her, so she had no choice but to wrap her thighs around his waist and meet his gaze head-on. “That’s what will happen. I’m certain—and I want you to be certain too.”

She swallowed hard. “I know… I just… there’s so much that could go wrong. I-I don’t doubt you, but Egan and the Consortium are treacherous.”

“I can handle them.”

“I know, but…”

He read her easily. “You’ll perform again later, this time on the main stage, and you’re worried about me. About whether I can keep my cool. And maybe even about what I’ll think of you.”

She shifted in his hold. “I like the way you look at me now. I don’t want you to see me as their prize.”

His arms flexed around her ass. “You’re not their fucking anything. You’re mine and I’m yours.”

“Right.”

He took a deep breath for courage. “I fucking love you, Scarlett.”

She drew back. “You do?”

“I do. With every part of my filthy, screwed-up, cocky soul.”

She cupped his cheek. “I love you too. So much.”

Relief rushed through him. Lust was one thing. The fated-mate bond another powerful force. But, love? This wild, ferocious sensation that had parked inside his chest that only grew stronger with every moment spent with her was an even more unpredictable beast: protective, possessive, and strangely selfless.

It was the reason he was content just to hold her and watch her smile and why he watched her when she slept, counting his lucky stars.

It was a feeling as bright and beautiful as any of her colors, and it was deep, infinite, and forever. As boundless, and enduring as the Anarcheim galaxy itself.

And he was so damned glad to hear she felt it too.

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