Page 42 of Filthy Beginnings

“I love the colors of your hair, Scarlett.” His voice had dropped to a husky rumble, his slow strokes never ceasing. “I like knowing I’m getting it so pretty and perfect—so in a little while, I can wrap it around my wrist, mess it up, and use it to pump that sweet mouth up and down my cock.”

She whimpered, squirming on the blankets as slick pooled on her folds.

He kept brushing her hair. “You like that idea?”

“Yes.” She was desperate and needy for him already.

“Good.” He set the brush down.

Excitement whispered through her. She lifted her head, already picturing herself on her knees, pleasing him just as he’d said.

“Not so fast.” He kept her pinned in place. “I am nowhere near done with you yet.”

Her low whine surprised her.

He chuckled in response. “You must be sore from all that dancing.” His big hands slid to her shoulders, kneading muscles she hadn’t even realized were aching.

“That… feels… so… amazing.” She melted beneath his touch.

“I think so too.” Warm liquid splashed onto her back. His hands traveled through the oil, spreading liquid heat over her back, the rough pads of his fingers digging in and hitting each muscle just right. “I know this is going to be hard for you to believe, sweet Scarlet, but the truth is I fucking love this.” He ran his fingers along the line of each rib. Worked his thumbs into the tight muscles of her lower back. “Taking care of you like this, having you under me, all soft, pliable, and sweet, is the best feeling in the galaxy.”

Every sweet word of his sent her deeper into a haze of bliss.

She purred in sheer contentment, and melted even more when he answered with his own low rumble, every strong stroke of his palms making her clit throb, intensifying her need.

“I have plenty of fantasies about all the ways I plan to rut and knot you.” His big hands kneaded her bottom. “But that’s not all. I’ve got just as many that play out like this.” He ran his hands along her thighs, his fingers massaging her overworked leg muscles. “With me making you cry out from all the different ways I can wring pleasure from you.”

“Mmmm.” Her flesh tingled as his palms ran the length of her legs, over her buttocks, and up her spine once more. She floated on a cloud, soaring above the tunnels and the Golden Dome, to a place where it was just her and Damien. To a place where there was no tournament or consortium. Where she was more than just a prize and they were free.

“How do you feel, baby?” His touch was lighter this time as he spanned the length of her back. “Relaxed? Horny?”

“Yes. Yes. So good.” Despite her best efforts, the words emerged slurred.

He grunted, the sound filled with pride—and a little awe. “I’m glad. I spend so much time causing pain with these fists. All I want to do here in this room is bring us both pleasure.”

Her heart squeezed inside her chest. Just when she didn’t think she could feel more intensely for this male, he surprised her. He was so much more than some big, cocky bruiser.

He was sweet and wonderful and more than she had ever expected could be hers.

His hands explored every inch of her, his warmth and care seeping beneath her flesh. Until she was certain his touch burned into her soul.

“Did you like the oil massage?”

She found the strength to speak. “Yes.”

“How about the hair-brushing?”

“Mmmm.”

“I’ll take that as a yes, too.” One hand lifted away. “You know, that’s not the only way I can use a hairbrush to give you pleasure.”

Her haze receded. “I don’t understand.”

“You will.” He chuckled. That same dark, mesmerizing sound that drove her wild. That made her willing to risk all to hear it again. “You trust me, right?”

“I do.” She didn’t even hesitate.

“Good.”

---