Page 60 of Filthy Beginnings

So, he would win this tournament. Not to prove anything to anyone else, but to show her that, from here on out, she could always count on him.

He took a small step closer. “I never should have put you in this predicament, but I am going to fix it now. I am going to win this tournament for you. From here on out, it’s you first.”

She covered her face with her hands and sobbed. Hard.

He’d never felt more helpless.

“Baby, please. You’re killing me.” He opened his arms. “I don’t have much time. Let me hold you.”

She launched herself at him, burrowing deep, her arms clutching him as if she could hold him to her forever.

Then, her arms were around his neck and she pulled him toward her, her mouth on his, kissing him like she wanted to consume him.

Nothing had ever felt so right.

Their tongues tangled in a frantic reunion, a desperate need, heavy with regret and apology, guilt and redemption.

He gripped her ass, lifted her so that her thighs wrapped around his waist.

Her natural sweetness mixed with the salt of her tears. Wrecking him. Making him desperate to soothe. To erase every bit of pain he’d caused and replace it with pleasure.

“I’m so sorry, Scarlett.” He spoke in the space between their kisses, murmuring his regret against her sweet skin. “I am going to make this right. You’ll see.”

She lifted his head from her mouth so that their gazes locked. “I don’t want gentle now, Damien. I don’t want regrets. I-I just want us. Like we’ve always been. Raw and honest, filthy and reckless. Don’t hold back. Give me all of you.”

They really were a perfect fucking match.

Spinning, he slammed her spine against the wall and claimed her mouth once more.

“This here… being with you,” he scraped his fang along the column of her perfect throat, “this is everything I’ll ever want or need.”

She moaned, squeezing her thighs tighter around him, rocking her sweet pussy against his cock.

His knot swelled. His cock was so hard, the laces of his leathers bit into his skin.

“Come inside me, Damien. Claim me now. The tournament is almost at an end. No more inspections. No one has to know.”

Her plea clawed at his control.

And when she went for his laces, one small hand sliding down his chest to his waistband, her little hips working feverishly against him, he almost lost it altogether.

But he’d made a vow down in that tunnel. Her happiness and safety mattered most. Always.

He stilled her hand. “Nothing I want more.” He pressed his forehead to hers and caught his breath. “But my leathers stay on. I will not rut you in some shitty closet for our first time.”

“No.” Wild desperation sharpened her protest. “I don’t care. I just want you.”

She was afraid.

He understood. The tournament was not without risk, but he would come back to her.

“My mate deserves more.” He gripped her ass and worked her harder over his dick. “She deserves everything.” He rocked her faster and faster. “Every pleasure. Every good thing in this galaxy.”

Those sweet little moans of hers drove him wild.

“And I am going to give it all to her.” He nipped at her ear. Licked away the sting. And pumped her up and down his shaft, loving that she was leaving behind a trail of slippery slick on his leathers. A claim for everyone to scent and see. “Because Scarlett Skolov is my mate, and my heart, and I am going to love her forever.”

She came apart in his arms, panting and sobbing.

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