Page 45 of Filthy Beginnings

“I’m not sure. Even believing in you, I’m-I’m scared.” Her gaze shifted from his. “The next trials will determine who makes it to the main event. Are you nervous?”

“No.”

She nodded. “What do you think of when you fight?”

“I zone out. Let instinct take over. What do you think of when you dance?”

She smiled, and this one wasn’t forced at all. It was pure, wicked temptation. “You.”

Just like that, he was hard. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” She swayed against him. “I think about how good it feels when you touch me.”

He ran his palm down the length of her spine and over the curve of her ass. “Soon I’m going to touch you all the time.”

“And I’ll touch you right back. No glass between us. No one to tell us we can’t.”

He gripped her ass and lifted her so she had no choice but to wrap her thighs around his waist and meet his gaze head-on. “That’s what will happen. I’m certain—and I want you to be certain too.”

She swallowed hard. “I know… I just… there’s so much that could go wrong. I-I don’t doubt you, but Egan and the consortium are treacherous.”

“I can handle them.”

“I know, but…”

He read her easily. “You’ll perform again later, this time on the main stage—and you’re worried about me. About if I can keep my cool. And maybe even about what I’ll think of you.”

She shifted in his hold. “I like the way you look at me now. I don’t want you to see me as their prize.”

His arms flexed around her ass. “You’re not their fucking anything. You’re mine and I’m yours.”

“Right.”

He took a deep breath for courage. “I fucking love you, Scarlett.”

She drew back. “You do?”

“I do. With every part of my filthy, screwed-up, cocky soul.”

Her palm cupped his cheek. “I love you too. So much.”

Relief rushed through him. Lust was one thing. The fated-mate bond another powerful force. But, love? This wild, ferocious sensation that had parked inside his chest, and only grew stronger with every moment spent with her, was an even more unpredictable beast: protective, possessive, and strangely selfless.

It was the reason he was happy just to hold her and watch her smile and why he watched her when she slept, counting his lucky stars.

It was a feeling as bright and beautiful as any of her colors, and it was deep, infinite, and forever. As bright, boundless, and enduring as the Anarcheim galaxy itself.

And he was so damned glad to hear she felt it too.

“Tell me again,” he growled.

“I. Love. You.”

He kissed her lips. Each eye. Then her mouth again. He couldn’t get enough. “So then you know I mean it when I say nothing you do could ever change how I feel about you.”

She stilled. “You promise?”

“I promise to love you until my fucking last breath. Until I’m so old, gray hairs grow on my balls, and my horns droop.”

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