Filthy Beginnings, page 10
part #3.50 of Ruthless Warlords Series
She woke slowly, a dreamy smile on her face. “Damien?”
“Right here.” He tucked a strand of red-streaked hair behind her ear. “Sorry, beautiful, but I need to get to the mats early. This is the last round before the main event. I want to make sure I’m limbered up and ready to go.”
She sat up fast. “Of course.” In the next heartbeat, she was up and pulling on her sleeping gown, her movements absent of their usual grace.
Stepping in front of her, he tipped her chin to meet his stare. “Just a little longer, beautiful, and we’ll never have to leave each other again.”
“Right.” That same forced smile was back.
“You okay?”
Without warning, she threw herself against him, her arms squeezing him tight. “Let’s not wait. Let’s run now. “
He stiffened. “Run? Skolovs don’t run.”
“But every rotation we stay is a risk.”
He wrapped his arms around her. “But we can’t turn tail now. If we tough it out for one more rotation, I’m going to win this and have it all.”
She stiffened, and he internally cursed his fumbling. He’d gotten the words all wrong. He was just on edge; the stakes had never been higher. And sometimes… sometimes it was starting to feel like he really was just a too-cocky, eighteen-planetary-rotation youngling who had no idea how the galaxy really worked.
But fuck that.
Scarlett was counting on him.
He had this.
Cupping her face in his hands, he tried again. “What I mean to say is, this money is for us, so I can take care of you and our family forever. The reputation is so I can ensure I’m big and bad enough that everyone we care for will be safe. Best of all, winning legitimately will mean we won’t have to be hunted from one end of the galaxy to the other by the consortium, fearing they’ll take you from me.” His fingers traced the delicate lines of her cheekbones. “We can live with my family for good—and your brother can visit whenever he likes. You’ll be mine by right. And I’ll be yours.”
She relaxed against him. “That will be nice.”
“It will be perfect.”
“Okay.” She nodded in his hold and forced one of those smiles he was coming to hate. “There’s just a single rotation, right? We’ve got this.”
“Yes.” He cleared his throat, and did what he’d never done before, what a fighter was never supposed to do. He showed her his weak spot. “I need you to believe in me, Scarlett. I need it more than anything.”
She stared up at him, her solemn stare suggesting she truly understood the significance of his words. “I do, Damien. I always will.”
The last of his doubts floated away. “Good. Now, tell me what you need from me, Scarlett. Tell me what I can say to make you feel as good as you’ve made me feel.”
“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.”
She shoved at his chest. “Such a romantic.”
He held her fast. “Got you to smile, didn’t it?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
“Bet I can get you to feel good even during this rotation’s performance and trials?”
She bit her lip. “I don’t think that’s possible. Even for you.”
“Did you just issue me a challenge?”
“Maybe.” Her lips finally tilted upward.
His heart rolled over.
He leaned in close and brushed his lips against her ear. “I’ll take that bet.” Setting her down, he made sure she was steady before he lifted his hands. “Stay right there.” He was across the room, digging through the crates, and back in a flash.
She eyed the item in his hand. “What’s that?”
“The way I’m going to win the bet—and prove you should never doubt me.”
He ripped open the packaging.
She moved closer, studying the translucent rod in his hand, it’s length shorter than his pinkie. “What is it?”
“A little care package from home. From my sister.” Anya was the only one who knew where he actually was, though as word spread about his fighting wins, his brothers would hear soon enough. “She’s always giving me shit about my lack of experience and sending me crap like this. She says it’s her way of helping her future sister-in-law.”
“I can’t wait to meet this female.”
He wrapped one arm around Scarlett and hugged her close. “I can’t wait for that either.”
He could already picture his return home: finally enough money in his pocket to help his brothers, his reputation as a formidable fighter assured, and Scarlett by his side. Everything he’d ever wanted.
But for now, that meant keeping his cool—and keeping his female happy.
“In the meantime,” he rolled the device between his fingers, warming it up, “let’s take advantage of Anya’s outrageousness, never say her name in relation to this item ever again, and have some fun.”
Scarlett laughed. “Deal… but I still don’t know what it is.”
As a prize, she really had been sheltered from so much fun.
“A toy. For you.” He pressed a button and the small oblong rod sprung to life, vibrating against his palm. “For your pleasure.” He turned over his other hand to reveal a small metal sphere. “And this is the remote. For my pleasure.”
She shivered, her gaze growing glassy. “Show me more.”
He fucking loved it.
He pressed the toy to her shoulder, stroking it against her, allowing her time to acclimate.
“Mmmm.” That purr he lived for vibrated softly from her throat. “That feels good.”
“You like that? Just wait.” He rolled it to the other shoulder.
And smiled wider when she moaned again.
“Fuck. The sounds you make. But wait, it gets better.” Then, he slid the flat rod down her belly.
She stilled, a kaleidoscope of colors dancing across her skin—even brighter than before.
“So fucking beautiful.” He was learning what the different shades meant, the splashes of crimson and violet a definite go-light.
He rolled the device over her mound—and it sped up.
He checked his finger on the remote. “Holy shit. I didn’t do that.” He stared at the colors flashing brighter and faster across her gorgeous flesh. “Do you think… is it possible your body did that on its own? When your colors glide across my skin, it sometimes feels like an actual caress. I wonder if your colors can have substance? Colors are refracted light, after all, and light can be a powerful force.”
“Mmmm, maybe.” She rolled her hips in time with the toy and he realized she was far more focused on the way the device in his hand made her feel.
As she should be.
Hadn’t he wanted her free of worry and focused only on pleasure?
“You like that, baby?” He shifted the angle. “You like the way I show my love?”
“Yes.” She rose to her tiptoes, thighs parting slightly. “Show me more.” She took his hand and together they slid his palm between her legs. “Show me everything.”
Heart slamming against his ribs, he rocked the toy gently against her slippery folds. “I’m going to fucking show you the galaxy, wild thing.”
12
The tiny toy pulsed against Scarlett’s clit as she stood at the edge of her display case, watching the fighting below.
She fought a smile, along with the urge to squirm.
It was hard to be terrified about Damien’s next fighting match when her body was awash with ripples of pleasure that rolled from her core to her nipples.
Which she knew was exactly why Damien was doing it.
His care for her left her breathless and disbelieving.
And he’d said he loved her.
Loved. Her.
Everything was going well. She only needed to hold on a little longer.
She’d finished performing her dance.
Damien was winning every match of the rotation, his focus impressive, his endurance extraordinary—and he loved her.
Things were progressing better than she could ever have imagined.
So, why did the smug look on Egan’s face still raise gooseflesh on her arms?
Pressing her palms to her stomach, she forced herself to breathe slow. To let the pleasure toy melt away her worries and loosen her limbs.
Now was not the time to let fear win.
A roar below drew her gaze to the mats. Kadon Stormhart looked strong as ever, easily winning his match. Damien’s friend, Crex, an orange-skinned male with a long tail that resembled a lash, eked out a victory as well. Unfortunately, so did N’gal Verish.
As always, her gaze drifted back to Damien—until, out of the corner of her eye, a figure on the main level drew her attention.
He stood among the crowd of observers and trainers, scrutinizing Damien. That wasn’t odd. The crowd often focused on Damien.
But Damien wasn’t fighting now. He’d already finished his latest match. Yet this male’s focus was absolute, his hand rubbing absently at the smooth spot behind his ear where an Alpha’s horn would normally be.
Another shiver ran through her.
Something about the male and the circumstances sent a shiver of dread up her spine.
“Next!” Egan’s shout sent her gaze snapping back to the mats.
Damien was up again. Another fighter scrambled onto the mats to face him.
Her stomach sank.
This time, Damien’s opponent was N’gal Verish, one of the favored fighters.
Scarlett didn’t know if the assignment was random or bad luck, but it made her nervous.
N’gal’s family and trainers crowded as close to the platform as possible, shouting out advice. Damien had no one.
While there were other matches set to take place simultaneously, this one drew all the attention.
Always one to play to the crowd, N’gal turned toward her, his wings rubbing the air in the deliberate mating ritual of his kind, his antennas twitching as he flexed his arms and snapped his pinchers in the air. “Take notes, pretty prize.” He shouted to ensure she could hear even from her higher vantage point. “Because after I pin this cocky, Skolov space trash, I’m going to win the main event, then I’ll pin you beneath my wings and rut that trophy cunt like a true champion.”
Crude laughter echoed through the arena.
Somehow, she still heard Damien’s menacing growl above it all.
She held her breath. But Egan did not censure the Verish fighter, as he might have so many others.
Instead, he called out, “Begin!”
The two Alphas clashed, the clap of their bodies vicious and loud.
Damien’s movements were not as elegant or swift as usual. Emotion drove him. Fury, too.
Verish sank a pincher into Damien’s chest.
Her heart hammered against her chest, the urge to bang against the glass and unleash her fury almost impossible to contain. Black flashed from her palms. A small crack appeared in the crystal cage.
Startled, she curled her fingers into fists and forced herself to calm down.
She needed to soothe Damien through their bond, not add to his aggression.
A roar rose among the fighters.
Relief almost sent her to her knees.
Blood poured from a wound at Damien’s chest, but it was the Verish fighter who was in trouble, his wing hanging at an odd angle as he flailed in Damien’s chokehold, her Alpha’s powerful arm and thigh trapping N’gal to the mat.
One heartbeat passed… then two… N’gal tried an escape roll.
Damien countered, retaining his hold.
Three heartbeats… four… N’gal’s clawed palm hit the mats.
He’d tapped out.
Roars shook the stadium, some of outrage, some joy.
Damien had done it. He’d unseated a favorite. A Brotherhood-sponsored warrior, no less.
It was a huge triumph.
Damien should have been celebrating.
Except he hadn’t let go of his hold.
N’gal Verish’s green skin mottled yellow as Damien’s arm flexed around his throat, denying the fighter breath. He pressed his mouth to the gasping male’s ear and whispered something, both of their gazes locking on her.
Ice skittered through her veins.
What had Damien said? What was he doing?
Murmurs turned into rumbles within the crowd.
He needed to let the other male go. Now.
She willed Damien to calm down. To gain control.
But the same recklessness and ferocity in him that thrilled her worked against them now.
He was going to ruin everything.
Worse, Egan Avitus was letting him.
Because by now, Egan should have done something. Fighters and trainers murmured among themselves. Called for action.
But Egan did nothing. He simply watched her Alpha strangle the other male, that familiar calculating smirk on her handler’s face.
Because once Damien crossed the line and broke protocol to choke out an opponent who’d tapped out, the consortium would have the excuse it needed to ban him from the tournament.
She opened her mouth to warn Damien—except someone beat her to it.
“Enough!” It wasn’t Egan who made this command. Nor her brother Luc.
It was Kadon Stormhart.
He broke from the other fighters and strode toward Damien.
Thankfully, his shout was enough to bring Damien to his senses. He shoved N’gal Verish away, just as Kadon came near.
Coughing, N’gal staggered to his feet with a snarl. “I’ll get you for this.”
“Try it.” Damien beckoned him forward.
Kadon stepped between them, hands up. “To your corners.” It wasn’t truly his place to issue such an order, but he’d always been a leader. “Skolov, you are one stupid mistake away from getting kicked out of the tournament—and then where will you be? Out of luck, with no chance of winning the prizes you seek.”
Damien’s gaze flew to hers. His arms dropped back to his sides. His chest rose and fell fast, but he appeared to have regained control.
Stormhart had done them a great kindness.
The vise around her chest loosened.
Until she saw Egan striding to the mats, that familiar smirk ghosting across his face as he glanced at her and back to the fighters once more.
“Disaster averted.” Cunning glittered in his stare. “The fights will continue, no harm, no foul.” A roar went up around the room. “But I’m sure you’ll agree,” Egan shouted over the din, “Kadon Stormhart deserves a boon.”
Dread thundered through her.
Stormhart scowled.
Damien tensed, his fists clenching.
“Bring the prize to me.” Egan pointed to the ground at his feet. “She will give Stormhart a private dance in his quarters as a way of showing our appreciation.”
Scarlett hurried down the hall toward Kadon Stormhart’s quarters, security on either side of her, her heart slamming against her ribs.
The look on Damien’s face when security led her from the crystal cage… her stomach twisted.
She’d never seen such rage.
But he wouldn’t be stupid, she told herself. He was the one who’d reminded her there was only a rotation left.
