Page 103 of Onyx Cage: Volume II

“I do own you, Lemmikki.” It wasn’t a feeling or an entitlement, it was a certainty, built into the very laws of the universe itself by whatever powers tied her inexorably to me.

She looked away, more tears falling down her cheeks, tears I never wanted to be responsible for again. I grasped her chin in one hand, pulling her gaze back toward me so she could see the truth etched into my very being.

“But you own me, too.” Did she hear the conviction that burned from every word that was branded into the air between us, cauterizing the wounds we had carved into each other’s souls.

She took a breath, all of the uncertainty bleeding from her features as the words resonated within her, too.

This time, I didn’t hesitate to pull her against me, bringing her bottom lip into my mouth and savoring the taste that was so uniquely her. She let out a gasp, arching into me.

I didn’t stop there, dragging my teeth along her skin, driven by the singular need to feel her skin on my lips, to track each one of her reactions and commit her body to memory.

When I got to the ropy scar at her shoulder, I paused, pressing a gentle kiss along it that had her grasping my shoulders. Her body was flushed with desire, the crimson color rising from the low neckline of her nightdress.

How long had I wanted to track that movement with my mouth?

I gave into the compulsion at last, wrapping one hand in her wild, glorious curls while the other braced her upright. I teased my tongue along the seam of her nightgown, grasping at the patience that had buried itself somewhere underneath an avalanche of desire.

But I already missed her lips. I worked my way back up to them, shifting her until she was on her side next to me. She put her hands on my head, dragging her nails along my scalp once more and pulling me closer to her, like she was worried I was going to stop.

Not ever, Lemmikki. Not if I had the choice.

The first time I kissed her, I had known it was a mistake. That she didn’t know how she felt. That I would have to let her go one day. Then we had played our games at the festival, taunting one another and sharing a single, brief kiss.

Now, I was finally able to take my time, to explore her plush lips with the reverence they deserved, to trace her tongue with mine and revel in the way she reacted to every touch.

She didn’t give any sign that she wanted to take things further, and I was more than content to take my time with her like this. Which is exactly what I did. Minutes, then hoursdisappeared in the eternal sensation of her body against mine. I was so lost in her that it took me longer than it should have to realize the room was several shades lighter than it had been before.

Der’mo. The sun was rising, and she hadn’t gotten a single moment of sleep. With our wedding in two days—no, tomorrow, now—we both had a full day ahead of us.

I didn’t think either of us wanted to explain why we were so tired, especially considering my day involved spending quality time with my favorite king of Lochlann.

I forced myself to break off our kiss, hammering down my self-control when she made a sound of protest and chased my lips with hers. Instead, I pressed my mouth against her forehead once more, murmuring against her skin.

“We should get some rest, Lemmikki.” My voice came out a low growl, raspy with disuse.

She peeked up at me through her lashes, the heat in her eyes a denial as clearly as if she had spoken it.

I couldn’t disagree, especially not when my gaze landed on the lips that were swollen from the hours they had been pressed against my own. Forcefully, on more than one occasion.

Just before I could contradict myself, she nodded, which I told myself was for the best. A feeling of rightness clicked into place when I tugged her against my chest, one I had been too enmired in grief to understand the first time I held her while she slept.

Then again, perhaps I had understood it better than I wanted to. Wasn’t that why I had come here? Why I had asked her to marry me?

Why I still wanted her to choose Socair and damn the many consequences to us both?

When she sighed against my chest, pressing herself in closer to me, I couldn’t bring myself to regret a single one of those things.

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

Asharp knock at the door woke me from a deep sleep.

“Your breakfast, Lord Evander,” someone called from the hallway.

Rowan cursed under her breath before frantically scurrying out of my arms. Her hair was a crimson tangle of curls, her eyes still swollen from sleep as she darted a panicked glance around the room.

Sunlight was streaming in through the window, and the grandfather clock chimed the hour. Eight bells. Nearly three hours later than I normally slept. I wondered the last time I had slept this soundly.

“I have to go before Da’ finds out I’m here and murders you,” Rowan whispered, edging closer to the edge of the bed.