Page 154 of Onyx Cage: Volume II

“As much as I would love to stand here and debate every aspect of Socairan law and custom that you haven’t bothered to learn or understand,” I continued in a calmer tone. “I have to getdownstairs for lunch with the lords to smooth over the damageyoucaused in the council meeting. But you are welcome to join me,” I added with a wave of my hand toward the door.

Not that she would deign to take responsibility for what she had done, let alone bother to help me fix it.

Sure enough, she only arched her eyebrows. “I’m sure I wouldn’t want to risk furtherdamagingthe fragile egos of any Socairan lords.” Her eyes bored pointedly into mine.

Der’mo. This woman. She was the only person in the entire world who chipped away at my self-control like it was crafted from ancient pottery rather than the solid steel I had spent a lifetime forging into existence.

My heartbeat thundered in my ears, my jaw clenching of its own accord.

Her gaze followed the movement, moving from my jawline to my lips with an intensity that was so, so close to anger.

But not quite.

It was enough to remind me that a handful of hours ago, we had been challenging each other in an entirely different way. My lips parted and she closed the distance between us in three short strides.

Then she put both of her hands on my chest, shoving me roughly against the wall. I might have bothered to stop her if I hadn’t seen the desire brimming in her gaze, the same need that coursed through my veins. It burned alongside the fuel of my rage, melding together until they both ignited in the feeling of her lips on mine.

She put every ounce of her fury into the kiss, and I returned it in kind. I captured her tongue with mine, tasting the ire on her lips and letting it wash over us both.

There wasn’t much time before I had to meet with the lords, but there was enough. And talking was getting us nowhere.

At least, not with words. But this—this was the language we knew. The only way to sayI don’t forgive you yet, but I still want every jagged piece of you for myself.

I gripped her waist firmly, feeling the heat that emanated off her skin even through the silk of her gown. Then I picked her up and spun us both until she was the one against the wall, bracing her high enough that I had perfect access to the same infuriating mouth that had gotten us into this mess.

She sank her teeth into my lip, wrapping her legs around my waist and pressing against me with intent. I groaned, and her hands clenched around my biceps as I slid my mouth down to her neck, nipping her skin along the way.

She gasped and I pulled her tighter against me.

“A sadist?” I murmured. “I think masochist might be closer to the truth, considering my choice in bride and what an enormous pain in the arse she is.”

Did she realize the way that she was my constant undoing in every imaginable way?

I nipped at her neck harder than I had before, testing the new boundaries she had created for us when she shoved me against this wall.

Her resulting gasp edged out the rest of my rational thought.

“Whereas my choice in husband is just an enormous arse,” she breathed out, moving her hands up to my hair and raking her nails along my scalp in the way she knew drove me insane.

I crushed my lips against hers once more, losing myself in the way she arched against me, the breathy sounds she made, and the energy that smoldered from her skin to mine.

Losing myself in her, even if the reality we escaped from was a beast of our own making this time.

CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE

Lunch with the lords went exactly the way I expected it to, with a number of thinly veiled insults directed at Rowan, some at me, and not a few insinuations that perhaps my father should resume the leadership of the Council of Lords.

Der’mo.

I knew that things were different in Lochlann, though admittedly, I hadn’t understood just how much until she had referenced stud services in the middle of that council.

But could she honestly not see the difference in her people and mine?

Or take five storms-blasted seconds to think about the consequences of the things she said?

Taras walked with me toward the stairs that led to the wing we both stayed in. He eyed me warily, taking in what I was sure was my thunderous expression.

“Remember that she is new here and not experienced with the way we do things,” he said in his usual quietly firm tone.