Page 33 of Filthy Beginnings

He fucking hated leaving her. Hated seeing her in that crystal display. Hated hearing Egan bark out the wordprize, snap his spindly fingers, and command her to perform. Hated the fighters who watched her with hungry eyes. Hated the worried look he occasionally caught in her stare and the tight smiles she sometimes threw his way. Hated every wasted heartbeat he wasn’t making her laugh or moan.

Fact was, he hated every fucking moment she wasn’t in his arms.

Once he reached the chairs, he placed her gently on her feet.

“Ah, I see.” She shoved him into a chair—and he let her—smiling a cheeky smile. “You want me to dance for you?” Those sexy hips of hers rocked from side to side. “A private showing?”

“Yes. Definitely.” Head bobbing up and down, he adjusted the bulge in his leathers. His dick was absolutely on board with the idea, but the greedy fucker would just have to wait. “But not before you eat.”

She stilled. “What?”

His hands fisted against his thighs. “You really want to know what I want more than anything right now?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Yes. Tell me.”

He blew out a breath. “I want you to come over here, sit on my lap, and let me… feed you.”

“You don’t have to do that.” She pressed a hand to her stomach, the colors on her skin and the wall dimming.

“I want to.”

Her lips pressed into a thin line, making the lines of her cheekbones all the easier to see. “I’m fine.”

He fucking hated that word from her.

He leaned forward. “You’re more than fine. You’re a warrior. You think I’m gonna forget how you almost dropped me on my ass when we met—with all that yellow color flashing and that clever leg sweep?”

Her lips lifted upward. “You better not.”

“I won’t. But you don’t forget that we’re a team.” He growled low, barely resisting the urge to grab her and force her onto his lap. “But all warriors need to eat and I know that fucker Egan is only feeding you once in the morning and again at night, while the consortium has round-the-clock-food, piled high on long tables, available for its tournament fighters. So,” he patted his thigh and tried not to sound like the hothead he was, “I’d really like it if you’d come here and let me feed you.” Then he brought in the big guns, flexing the muscles in his chest as he dropped his voice like he knew she liked—and winked. “Plus, after you eat, I’ll eat you.”

Her burst of laughter cut through the tension. “Well, when you put it like that. I am veryhungry.” She leapt.

He rose out of his chair and caught her, curving her legs around his hips so that she straddled him as they sat back down.

Pure perfection.

Her skin pressed to his, her colors bright, her hot pussy rubbing against his leathers.

And when he took a doughy treat and slid it between her lips, her tongue coiling around his fingers, he got so hard he was sure his cock was about to break through his laces.

He forced himself to breathe deep—and keep it together.

Feeding her definitely eased the edginess inside him.

But it didn’t wipe it away altogether. Not by a long shot.

“Here.” He handed her one of the consortium’s energy drinks. “You’ve got to be thirsty too.”

“Thank you.” She took it, a wide smile stretching her face as she brought it to her lips.

“Hold up.” He slid his hand between her soft lips and the top of the cannister.

She drew back. “What’s wrong?”

He studied her—and the way the colors on her skin had dimmed. “Do you like the energy drink, Scarlett?”

She flushed. “I really appreciate you getting it for me.”

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