Page 149 of Filthy Royal

Foolish or not, she needed him.

So she rocked back against him harder.

“Fuck, Scarlett.” He held her still against him. “Be very sure.”

She knew what he was warning.

But she hadn’t been so sure of anything in a long time.

What else could you do with such a magnetic, ferocious storm but run headlong into its fury, throw your hands up, and let it ride roughshod over you, basking in its glory?

Damien.Her lips formed his name, a whispered plea against his palm.

That was all it took.

He broke.

20

DAMIEN

Damien’s grip snaked around Scarlett’s front, plastering her perfect body to him as his mouth landed against her neck, his fangs dragging along the sweet flesh.

What else could he do?

She summoned, and he answered.

“Not a fucking sound.” He growled the words into her ear and thanked the Goddess that the cloak not only obscured sight but also dampened scent because he knew he and Scarlett were drowning in pheromones and the perfume of rut, and he’d never wanted so badly to sink beneath her undertow and forget everything but her.

Scarlett’s head fell back against his chest as he rocked her against him.

Then she was pushing back into him, rising onto her tiptoes while her back arched and her nails dug into his hips, pulling him closer.

It felt like a fucking dream.

From outside in the corridor came the guards’ faint murmurs, but they were drowned out by the roar of need blasting through his brain.

Scarlett was giving herself to him.

Not because he’d taken her by force. Not because the damned taming chain had her riled up.

But because this was them, the draw between them as strong as ever.

Damien saw red, his hand moving instinctively to return the laser to its holster so he could touch her with both hands.

He wasn’t sure what had shifted for Scarlett. Or if what he’d learned about her feelings for Stormhart had set something free inside him, but the result was the same: Stormhart had ceased to be a concern.

Scarlett didn’t love the pretty boy. She never had.

And Darvish was not getting a hold of her.

That was all that mattered.

Damien kept a hand over her mouth to muffle any sounds while his fangs nipped at her ear, the soft hitch of her breath everything.

They’d have to pry him from this space, and from her.

At this moment, nothing was as important as getting as close to her as possible and erasing all the lonely nights, the agony and longing.

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