Page 79 of Filthy Royal

One whose eyes shone with the red of rut.

One who she’d never thought to see again.

One who had the power to destroy all her plans.

“Omega.” Damien’s deep rasp vibrated down her spine, shattering her good sense and jerking her toward him as if the tether between them still existed, as if she hadn’t destroyed it long ago.

As if Damien Skolov were still her home, her hope, her harbor—even though she knew he was no longer any of those things.

Lust and need ricocheted through her bloodstream, her plans forgotten.

“Alpha.” She staggered forward, already sinking to her knees to present; everything obliterated but him.

3

SCARLETT

“Mine.” Damien tangled his fingers in her hair, preventing her from reaching the floor while his other arm wrapped around her waist and lifted.

Without conscious thought, she wound her legs around his waist, her short skirt sliding upward.

“Yours.” Scarlett shivered with pleasure as the edges of his cloak fluttered around them.

She’d waited so long. Been so lost, hopeless, and afraid. Yearning for him. Missing him. Dying… for him.

And now he was finally here. Everything was right once again.

Her spine struck the nearest wall.

His mouth fused with hers, his hold on her bottom tightening.

Paradise.

Their tongues clashed. Relearning. Savoring. Remembering. The sweetest of homecomings.

His taste was everything she’d missed. Everything she wanted. Power. Need. Reckless, wild lust and fierce possession.

He tasted like sin and hope and life. He tasted like every beautiful shade of joy bleached from her life and now returned in full, vivid color.

A sob escaped her as her hands slipped beneath the tight black shirt molded to his skin and reveled in the hard heat of him.

He ground against her.

She rose to meet him, frantic for every thrust, even through his leathers.

The tips of his claws pricked her skin as he worked her up and down over the bulge of his shaft.

Scarlett clawed his back with her nails, desperate to be closer.

There was no tenderness. Just rough, raw possession coated with a ferocity her inner darkness recognized.

She exalted in it.

He was so familiar, so perfect, and yet so different—his body bigger, more muscular, and she wanted more.

“Mine.” His knuckles brushed against her neck, followed by a cracking sound.

In a daze, she registered her broken prime omega collar hitting the floor. She took her first deep breath in a long time. “Yes.”

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