Page 27 of Filthy Beginnings

But practice made perfect, and he was planning to practice a lot from here on out.

“Yes. Oh, Damien. Yes.”

He would never get enough of hearing her say his name like that.

Or the soft, sexy vibrations issuing from her throat: his omega’s purr. His soul responded, rumbling back every time to create a song that was uniquely theirs.

He took his time, holding her hips down when she got too squirmy, feasting on every sweet inch. Relishing every soft sigh. Every quick intake of breath.

Calling on every bit of his discipline.

Because every time she rolled her hips and made that sweet purring sound, his shaft only grew harder, his knot more swollen.

His dick didn’t seem to realize release wasn’t happening any time soon.

No, it kept urging him to thrust inside her. Or jerk off all over her and then rub his essence into her skin. Or sink his fangs deep into her throat.

The instinct to claim her with his fangs, cum, and cock a primal drumbeat he could barely keep from answering.

Except the instant he did, it would be game over.

No tournament. No prize money. No Scarlett.

And that was unacceptable.

So, he was keeping his leathers on, his dick tucked inside, and he was pouring all his need, all his hunger, into making his female scream his name.

Many times.

Starting now.

Pressing her hips down—he noticed she got even louder when he restrained her—he let his tongue skim over her swollen clit.

She went ballistic. Legs spreading wide. Hips lifting.

He fucking loved it—and rewarded her by pinning her down harder, lapping at her clit faster.

Until she shattered, her gorgeous tits heaving as her body twitched beneath his palms and her essence spilled onto his tongue.

He’d never tasted anything sweeter.

When she tried to wiggle away, her fingers tugging at his hair, he grabbed the ends of the restraints and took control of her arms, wrapping the ties around each thigh to pin her wrists to her legs. “Again.”

She went fucking wild after that.

7

Scarlett awoke on her back, moaning, Damien’s head between her thighs. Again.

“Oh, Goddess. That feels so good. But…” She threaded her fingers through his hair and tugged halfheartedly—even as her hips lifted to meet the slow stroke of his tongue. “Shouldn’t you…” Awash with pleasure, overcome from exhaustion, it was hard to think. “The guards…”

“Mmmm.” Following his own agenda, he worked the flat of his tongue over her clit. “Once… more. For… me.”

He’d brought her to climax so many times already.

“I-I can’t.”

He pulled back, nuzzling one thigh, then the other. “One more taste, sweet Scarlett.”

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