Page 31 of Cage the Storm
His jaw tightens, his gaze bouncing between my lips and my eyes. And then, just like that, restraint ceases to exist.
His mouth captures mine again, urgent and possessive. His hands trail down my spine, a claiming pressure that drags me flush against him. Until the breath I’d trapped shatters into a gasp against his lips.
The kiss deepens into something primal, and I surrender completely. His warmth isn’t just around me, it’s in me, searing through every nerve until nothing exists but the taste of him and the dizzying need to get closer.
He tilts my head back with a firm palm at my jaw, swallowing my moan as he devours me. His other arm bands around my waist, fingers digging into my hip—not pain, but possession—a branding touch screaming, you feel this? You feel me? The denial shatters: this hunger is visceral and genuine.
We pull back, gasping. He doesn’t let me go. His arms wrap around me, one hand cradling the back of my head like he’s holding the pieces of us together. I wrap my arms around him, holding onto the only thing that feels like home. Then I look up. His onyx eyes burn with unsated hunger. Possession. And the weight of his hand on my hip makes it impossible to breathe.
CHAPTER THIRTY
NICOLAI
“It’s getting late,”I say, my voice rough as my hand remains glued to her hip. The heat of her skin makes it harder to pull away. “We should get some rest.”
I know Luna isn’t thinking about sleep since her eyes stay locked on me. “Is that what you want? To sleep?” Her fingers skim my abs, then purposefully dip inside my trousers, and suddenly, everything else no longer exists.
I swallow hard, my jaw tightening as I try to find the words to answer her. “Luna…”
Her lips curve into the faintest hint of a smile. “Because it doesn’t feel like you want to sleep, Nico,” she whispers, as her thumb glides along my bottom lip. She said Nico. Not Nicolai, like I asked. And just like that, I’ve already lost.
Her hand moves with deliberate intent, reaching for my tie. I don’t stop her. I can’t. The silk slides free, and the sound, almost imperceptible, feels deafening in the quiet room. My breath catches as she steps closer, her gaze never leaving mine.
Her fingers brush against my collar, and I feel the first button give way. Then the next. Each movement is deliberate, as though she’s testing the limits of my restraint. And damn it, I’m not sure how much of it I have left.
“Luna.” It’s a warning, but she doesn’t waver. I should have fucked her downstairs, but it’s too late now. Then, her gaze locks on mine, impossible to ignore. And I feel completely undone for the first time in a long time.
Her fingers move to my cuffs, and I can’t look away. The way her touch lingers just a second longer than necessary is maddening. She’s seducing me, and it’s her boldness that undoes me more than anything else.
The first cuff comes undone, the fabric loosens around my wrist, and the second cuff is next. When she finally slides the shirt off my shoulders, her fingers brush against my skin, sending a jolt through my body.
The shirt slips from my fingers, forgotten as it hits the floor. Her gaze locks onto mine. She’s daring me to stop her. To pull away.
I should stop her. Take back control, but I can’t.
She’s already taken it away from me.
And for the first time in my life, I don’t care.
Her hands move lower, deliberate and unhurried, and I feel her fingers brush against my belt buckle. My breath catches, my pulse quickening as she works confidently, leaving me completely ruined.
I’m usually the first to initiate sex since I’m always in control. I demand it. But tonight, something about her quiet confidence, after what we discussed at dinner, has me hesitating. It piques my curiosity, pulling me into unfamiliar territory. For once, I wait with bated breath to see what she’ll do next. And she doesn’t disappoint.
Her knuckles brush the flat of my stomach as she drags down my zipper. The trousers collapse, pooling at my ankles. Luna doesn’t step back. Just lifts her chin, and I don’t move. I’m rooted to the floor, my adrenaline skyrocketing. All I can think is: When did she learn to play my game better than me?
A snarl tears loose from my throat before I can cage it, and my hand whips out, cinching her wrist hard enough to bruise. Her pulse jackhammers under my grip.
Fuck.
I should break her for this. Should pin her to the wall and remind her what happens to wives who forget their place. But the way her lip quirks, like she’s laughing at the beast she’s unleashed, makes me fucking hard.
“Clever girl,” I rasp, yanking her against me. “But this?” I guide her trapped hand lower, pressing it over the thick ridge of my cock. Proof of the power she’s toying with. “This kingdom exists because I let it. You want to play ruler? Then learn to be merciless. Like me.”
I don’t kiss her. I take—mouth brutal, and when she moans, it’s not submission. It’s a challenge. And Christ, I’ll ruin us both answering it.
Her dress falls, pooling at her feet, as if she’s shedding skin she never wanted.
“Like what you see, Boss?” Her voice is sweet but lethal. She steps closer, every curve a provocation. I’ve seen men kneel for less. I’ve berated them.
