Page 109 of Onyx Cage: Volume II

“If I kiss you now, are you going to run away again?” I asked her pointedly.

Her lips parted, still pinker and more swollen than usual. “I did notrun awaythis morning.”

There it was, the telltale lift of her chin. Even she knew she was lying. I raised my eyebrows and she looked away.

“All right. Fine. I did. But only because…” She pulled her lip between her teeth, and I resisted the urge to steal it back with my own.

Her answer to this mattered.

Just as I had the night before, I grasped her chin in my hand, angling it until her gaze returned to mine.

“Because?” I pressed.

“Because we had a busy day.” The quiet admission wasn’t close to the whole truth, so I patiently waited for her to acknowledge the rest.

She swallowed, taking a breath. “And if I had stayed in that bed another minute, we would still be in it now.”

Whatever I had been expecting her to say, that was not it.

My breath stilled in my lungs, my lips parting as all rational thought fled my mind. I didn’t care about my wound or her relative state of undress or the fact that there were no doubt dozens of people who knew she was in my rooms right now.

“Der’mo, Lemmikki.” I pressed my lips against hers, running my hands up and down the sides of the robe I wasn’t sure if I loved or hated.

Both.

She had been responsive last night, but it was nothing compared to the urgency with which she returned my kiss now. She sank her teeth down onto my lower lip hard enough to draw blood, tugging at the strands of my hair like she couldn’t get close enough to me.

If I had been fighting for control until now, it was a battle I conceded the moment her tongue swept into my mouth. I pressed her against the wall, and she sighed, running her hands down my neck, along my shoulders…then she froze when she got to the bandage.

Letting out a whoosh of air, she lightly pushed me away. I felt the absence of her warmth instantly.

“And that,” she panted out, “is why I left quickly this morning.”

I surveyed her features, trying to reclaim enough of my reasoning to suss out her meaning, since I hardly considered the events of the last few minutes to be an object lesson in consequences.

For all her jokes about our day being too busy to make time, she had also hesitated last night. Uncertainty brimmed in her eyes and I recalled that, for someone with very little self-restraint, she had made it clear that she had never been in Korhonan’s bed, or anyone’s, despite ample opportunity.

For whatever reason, she didn’t want to take things that far before our wedding. I nodded my understanding, pressing a kiss against her forehead before backing away to give her some space.

Her shoulders eased in relief, a soft smile coming to her lips.

“I should get cleaned up, Lemmikki. And I can’t believe I’m saying this, but you...you should get dressed.” I vowed that it would be the last time I spoke those words.

She gave me a half smile before disappearing back into the passageway. I had Pavel call for a bath while she was gone. I mostly managed to avoid the bandage, though steaming water still seeped into my wound. It was hardly enough pain to incapacitate me, though. Not when I had trained in the wake of my stepmother’slessons.

Apparently, that wasn’t a chance Rowan wanted to take. When she returned, using the regular door as opposed to the passageway, she was looking at least marginally more put together, with Gallagher in tow.

That didn’t stop her from ogling me, her heated gaze settling on the open laces of my shirt. I smirked at her obvious perusal.

Gallagher cleared his throat.

“I thought I might look at that wound,” Gallagher said evenly.

That was wholly unnecessary, but Rowan bounced anxiously at his side, and I couldn’t deny a certain amount of curiosity regarding his…skillset. I also had plans for tomorrow night that would be far more enjoyable the more healed this wound was.

I agreed, moving so they could enter. I pulled off my shirt, taking a seat. Gallagher removed my bandage gently, hazel eyes assessing the wound with a clinical detachment.

“A scrape?” Rowan’s tone was outraged, and I shrugged.