Filthy Beginnings, page 8
part #3.50 of Ruthless Warlords Series
She studied him, the shimmering colors of her skin flashing faster than before. “Okay.”
Through the invisible bond between them, he sensed her hope and her nerves.
“We’ll practice this. It will get easier.” He picked up a Verishian meat pie. Fighters were supplied delicacies from across the galaxy during the tournament. “You like this one?” He held it close to her lips.
She wrinkled her nose.
He laughed. “No, huh? I’m not a fan either.” He tossed it back onto the tray and chose a sweeter plant dish from his homeland, svalketh. “What about this one?”
“Yes.”
“See, we got this.” He slid a small piece between her lips and muffled a groan.
He’d never understood until now what it was he truly needed in his life. Now he did.
It was this. It was her.
He relished every bit of food he slid between her perfect lips, but as they neared the end of the meal, he could hold in his question no longer.
“So, what did Kadon Stormhart say to you?” He fed her another choice bit of svalketh.
It took way too long for her to chew and swallow. “What?”
“I might have been in the thick of my matches, but I saw Egan bring you to speak with Kadon’s father and the golden boy himself.”
“Yes, it’s part of my duties as a prize. Kadon’s father, Andor Stormhart, is a Brotherhood member and a big investor in the consortium tournaments. Big investors like him are always offered a special look at the prize.” There was a wariness to her voice Damien didn’t like and that same tight smile he’d hoped never to see again.
“That better be all he did.”
“Of course, even an Alpha as powerful as Andor Stormhart can’t touch a prize.”
“What did Kadon say?” He noticed she hadn’t yet given him an answer.
It looked like they’d need a lot more practice to get her comfortable opening up.
She shrugged. “Not much. We exchanged a few words. He asked if he could bring me a drink. Egan told him I was fine.”
So the fucker was nice as well as handsome. Great.
There wasn’t anyone alive who didn’t know Stormhart’s father was a bigwig in the Brotherhood with deep pockets who’d made his fortune through raiding. He put a lot of money and time into his son’s training and it showed. His heir, Kadon Stormhart, was an excellent fighter.
But Damien was sure he was better.
Scarlett’s hand wrapped around his wrist, pulling him from his thoughts. “I’m done eating—and with talking.”
He was still deciding about her sudden shift in mood, and whether he should push a little more, when she scooted backwards and climbed off his lap.
With no more warning, she dropped to her knees between his spread thighs, her mouth inches from the bulge pushing against his leathers. “I’m hungry for something else.”
Her tongue flicked out, leaving a shiny spot on his pants—and making him almost come on the spot.
“And you told me I should tell you what I want.”
“I did, didn’t I?” He forgot everything else but the way she looked staring up at him, those plush lips red against the black of his leathers.
“And you said we should practice. A lot.”
He tangled his fingers in her silky hair as his other hand tugged at his laces. “Then let me feed you.”
He’d never undone his laces so fast.
His hand slipped into his leathers and pulled out his dick, fisting it as her hungry gaze locked on his movements.
He was never more aware of the thick veins that snaked along his shaft, from his balls to the mushroom top. Or the ridges that banded his cock at regular intervals.
“Big.” The word left her in a whispered huff.
He winked. “Just like the rest of me.”
“I want to lick it.” She leaned closer, her breath skimming across his thigh, that soft, sweet purr vibrating against his skin.
His dick twitched in his palm, a drop of liquid spilling from the tip.
He wanted to thrust it between her pretty red lips so bad, then flip her over and fuck her as he sunk his fangs into her throat and planted a youngling in her belly… but then the consortium would know, and she’d be in danger.
So he locked the impulse down and focused on how much he liked the way she looked at him.
Not like a bruiser, but a champion.
It humbled him.
And gave him the strength to sound almost in control as he rasped, “I’d like that, baby. I’d like you to lick it very much.”
Her red lips slipped into a welcoming O.
With a grunt, he slid his hips forward on the chair, eyes rolling back when she tongued his slit. “Fuck, yes.”
“You taste so good.” Her tongue coiled around his shaft as a purr vibrated from her throat, traveling straight to his dick.
His vision turned red. He dug one set of claws into the metal seat to keep his ass planted right where it was.
“You’re shaking.” One small hand landed on his thigh.
Another reminder. She was so much smaller than him. More delicate. He could hurt her so easily.
But he never would.
“It’s your touch.” He played with her hair, let it sift through his fingers as he fought to bring himself under control. “It fucking shatters me and I’ve… I’ve done a lot of brutal things with my hands. I’m not a gentle guy. But I want to be gentle with you. I want to get it right.”
“You are.” She pressed her cheek to his thigh. Trailed her tongue along his shaft. “I love the way you touch me. The way you look at me and talk to me. Like I’m not just some prize, but a real, flesh-and-blood creature.”
“Really?” He smiled down at her. “Because sometimes I can’t believe you are.”
“Does this help?” She slid her mouth down over the head of his cock, sucking hard, her head bobbing.
“Fuck, yeah. That helps. A lot.”
9
Rotation two of the tournament…
Damien was still riding high the next rotation when he took a break from training to grab a drink, maneuvering past all the bodies still grunting, sweating, and slamming into one another on the mats.
He’d made it through another round of one-on-one matches with ease, shown Crex a few moves on the mats, and was now marking down the moments until he could see Scarlett again.
As if Egan knew it would piss him off, the bastard hadn’t put her inside the training arena this rotation. Apparently, she’d been placed outside to drum up more interest in the event.
He fucking hated it.
But at least he knew she was safe. There was no getting through that crystal barrier. It hadn’t even cracked when he’d slammed against it.
Soon, she’d be back in his arms. He missed her already.
Didn’t help that he was reminded of her every time this particular trainer barked out a correction to one of the consortium fighters. Though the Alpha looked nothing like his dainty Scarlett, he had eerily similar gold hair with red streaks. Also, there was just something about the way the male held himself that reminded Damien of a certain omega.
It made Damien wonder if the guy had a connection to Scarlett. She’d mentioned a brother and spoken of him fondly. Actually, she’d made it sound like the guy walked on water, so he really hoped this guy wasn’t him.
Especially since the Alphahole wouldn’t stop glaring at him.
To be contrary, Damien gave him a chin nod.
Despite the scent mask, Damien was one hundred percent certain the guy didn’t smile back.
He did, however, saunter over, his shoulder knocking into Damien’s as he reached for one of the consortium’s energy drinks. “Stormhart is the best choice to win this tournament and Scarlett.”
Damien instantly bristled. “Fuck that.”
The other male turned, raising the cannister to the slit in his mask as he pretended to drink, but Damien still heard him loud and clear. “I’m her brother. I know what’s best.”
Mystery solved. “Not this time.”
They eyed each other, challenge thickening the air.
Scarlett’s brother Luc was the first to break their staring match. “Kadon Stormhart is Brotherhood. He’s respected, liked within the consortium, a good male.”
“But he isn’t me.” Here he was again, having to prove himself.
“Exactly,” scoffed the other male. “He’s promised he’ll keep her safe and out of the consortium’s clutches. He’ll make her his prime omega.”
“So will I.”
A beat of silence. Damien had surprised him. Good.
But even that didn’t shut the consortium Alpha up for long. “You’re too young to know what you want. Or make such promises. Does your family even know you’re here?”
Damien hated that Luc’s shot in the dark hit home. “I’m old enough.” He was getting awfully tired of having to excuse his age. “Old enough to satisfy all of Scarlet’s needs.” He smirked, then felt like an asshole, so he added. “We’re in love.”
“You fool. It’s been only two rotations since you pulled your little stunt and pissed off the consortium. You don’t even know her.”
“Sometimes you just know.” At least the jerk had no idea he and Scarlett were spending time together.
Luc studied him. Blew out a breath. “Fine. I’ll grant you that. Sometimes…” a muscle pulsed in his jaw, “the connection is just there, and you know. But it’s not enough. You think love matters in the end?” The container crumpled in his hand. “It doesn’t once survival is on the line.”
“Hells. Cynical much.” Damien tossed his own drink aside. “You nursing a broken heart?”
Scarlett’s brother snarled at him, getting in his face. “You know nothing.”
Damien was not one to back down. Chest puffing wide, he snarled right back. “I know I can make Scarlett happy. I know I can protect her. Keep her safe.”
“You aren’t even Brotherhood. Even if you win, do you really think you can give her what Stormhart can?”
Damien’s fangs punched against his gums. The urge to strike back intense. But this was her brother. And it would be a lot easier for them all if the Alphahole liked him.
He took a breath. Took a step back. “Did Scarlett say she wanted Stormhart?”
Luc’s stare slid away. “No.”
Relief slammed through Damien. “Well then, there’s your answer.”
“Not by half.” Luc’s voice was still low, but it carried a new strain of urgency. “Don’t let your ego get in the way. You may have something to prove—hells, we all do—but don’t let chase it at Scarlett’s expense. We all sacrifice for the ones we love. You want to prove you’re really the kind of Alpha she can count on? Let Stormhart win.”
The male stormed out.
But his words remained, echoing in Damien’s head.
We all sacrifice for the ones we love. You want to prove you’re really the kind of Alpha she can count on? Let Stormhart win.
Fuck that.
Striking out, he swept his forearm across the table and sent a handful of lined-up containers flying off the table.
A couple of fighters cursed. A few more jumped out of the way as the cannisters clattered to the floor. All gave him dirty looks.
He didn’t give a shit.
Luc’s words pricked at him. Did Scarlett have reservations like her brother? Was there some part of her that wondered if Stormhart would make a better match? There was no denying there were benefits to being the prime omega of an Alpha from an established Brotherhood family—and he could promise until he was blue in the face that his family would be Brotherhood one rotation soon, but they weren’t now.
His claws burst from his skin, another wave of aggression roiling through him.
Through intense force of will, he forced his claws to retract before any of the other fighters caught sight and thought he was issuing a challenge. He could only imagine what Scarlett’s brother or Egan would say if he got into another brawl now.
He had to play it cool.
Trouble was, he’d heard enough about fated mates to know that they were rare and that most Alphas avoided such pairings because it was said to lead to out-of-control behavior, bad choices, and even mental instability.
A description that fit his current mood way too well.
But screw that.
That wasn’t what was happening here. He was just a little on edge because the stakes were so high.
Being with Scarlett was everything good and right and he was going to do right by her.
He could protect her. Better than anyone.
He would prove her brother wrong. Just like he’d show his family he could be counted on.
Rolling his shoulders back, he shook off the weight of Luc’s words—and signaled to Crex to rejoin him on the training mats for another round.
Fighters couldn’t second-guess. Or allow doubt to creep in. It screwed with response times. Threw off your whole rhythm. Which left you open to mistakes. Then you found yourself in trouble and, before you knew it, you were hit with a sucker punch you never saw coming.
That would not be him.
He and Scarlett had this.
That night, Damien was pacing the storage room by her sleeping quarters when he finally heard Egan leave and the guards lock her in for the night.
She darted straight into his arms the instant he freed her from the restraints. “Sorry it’s so late.” She pressed kisses to his chest and squeezed him tight. “I missed you.”
He didn’t bother speaking. He wasn’t sure he was calm enough. Instead, he just swooped her up and carried her to another door he’d discovered that led to a closet that led to a grate with easier access to their secret place.
He’d used the time between the matches and seeing Scarlett to explore—and it was a far smarter expenditure of his time than the fucking and drinking with which most of the other fighters filled their leisure hours.
His heart beat had almost returned to normal by the time he reached their destination.
He was even able to set her down, though he kept her in his arms, his chin rubbing the top of her silky head.
Her brother had really pissed him off.
Damien tried to reel himself in. “You had me worried. What happened?”
There was a moment’s hesitation, and his stomach clenched.
“Egan kept me for a private performance with some of the prime investors.”
His hands fisted against her back.
“Damien?” She wiggled in his hold.
He loosened his grip. Blew out a breath. “I’m sorry. You okay?” He pulled his shit together enough to avoid being a galaxy-class jerk. He might have been worried, but she’d been forced to dance for those fuckers.
“You want me to sneak back to the kitchens and get you some food?”
“No,” she clutched him tighter. “I just want you to hold me.”
“With pleasure.” He told himself to pull it together. Reminded himself there were only a few more rotations—and still he couldn’t help but ask, “Who was there?”
Another hesitation.
This time, he answered for her. “Kadon Stormhart and his family.”
She nodded, her cheek rubbing against his chest. “And N’gal Verish and his.”
The tournament favorites, though after the way he’d been winning, cutting through his opponents like they were dark matter, the odds were shifting.
Egan couldn’t be happy about that. Neither was Scarlett’s brother, apparently. Asking around, he’d learned the consortium Alpha was respected and well-liked.
A fact that only made Luc’s preference for Stormhart for Scarlett all the harder to swallow.
But there was little either Egan or Luc could do about it outright.
Damien made sure to eat the same food as the other fighters and drink only from the same water sources. He also had his new friend Crex watching his back. In return, Damien doled out fighting tips and extra training.
As long as Damien stayed sharp, there was little chance of Egan or Luc orchestrating a sneak attack that could take him out before the tournament began.
Fuckers might not like it, but Damien was here to stay.
The problem was, he didn’t know how to stop the edginess growing inside him every time a fighter boasted about winning the prize money—and the prize herself.
It didn’t help that the urge to fuck and knot Scarlett, mark her, and breed her had grown from a shout to a deafening roar inside his brain—and the longer he held out, the edgier he got. The harder it became to curb his aggression.
“Damien?” Wide, worried eyes peered up at him. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m… good. Just a little on edge.” He blew out a breath. “I don’t like those fuckers around you.”
“Me either.”
He couldn’t help himself. He knew he shouldn’t ask. He did it anyway. “So, what’s the real story with Stormhart?”
“What do you mean?” Her expression blanked. In the next instance, she pulled away from him, her lips tilting upward into a tight smile.
He told himself it was nothing. “Well, your brother sure has a hard-on for him.”
She stilled. “What are you talking about?”
“He’s obsessed with the idea of Stormhart winning the tournament and you. I thought it was just Egan who was jockeying for one of the Brotherhood-connected favorites to win, but clearly that’s not the case. Your brother wants him for you too.”
She studied him. “Luc spoke with you?”
“Yes.”
Her lush lips flattened into a tight line. “I’m sorry. Ignore him. Luc and Stormhart have been fighting against one another since they were young. They respect one another.”
Must be nice.
He shook off the sting.
“You know Stormhart well too?” He tried for casual. From the wary look that entered her gorgeous eyes, he was pretty sure he failed.
“Well enough. I’ve watched him fight since I was young. As a prize-in-training, I was required to attend a lot of the smaller tournaments, though they mostly had us stand around and smile, to add some sparkle to the event.”
