Page 25 of Crown of Thorns
Rhys frog marches me down the hall and around the corner into the corridor of the part of the residential wing where our rooms are. He stops in front of our door with his hand on the handle and turns to issue a command over his shoulder. “We won’t need anything until it’s time to leave for dinner.”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” I hear Leo say from behindus and I jump at the sound of his voice. I was so lost in my own head that I forgot he was trailing us as usual.
Rhys’s body presses against my back as he throws open the main door and propels me through. He follows me in and slams the door behind us. And then he roars,“What the bloody hell were you thinking?”
I turn around to face him. I’ve been taken from my home, I’ve been threatened with venomous snakes, I’ve survived a deadly car crash, and this man thinks to shout at me?
Suddenly, I see red.
“I was thinking that everything I know and love is gone,” I bite out. “I was thinking that something familiar was here and that I was going to have a tiny little reprieve from thisAlice in Wonderlandworld I seem to have fallen into where everything is topsy turvy! I was thinking that finally something was going to be safe and okay for me!”
“You said you love me,” he says in a deadly quiet tone.
And I know now how truly angry he is. At me, at everything. Maybe he doesn’t want to be in this situation any more than I do. Maybe the queen was right and I was just a name on a list. And he was ordered by his father to pick one. Too bad he jumped the gun on that one before dear old daddy died. He could have saved us all a lot of trouble and heartache.
“I know.”
“Do you not anymore?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“No,” he says as he stalks me. “You said that everything you know and love is gone. If you love me, then I’m right. Fucking.Here.”
“That’s not what I meant!” I cry out. “Don’t you get how hard this has all been on me?”
“I do know that,” he raises his voice at me again. “But I also know that this isn’t a fucking game!”
“I know that!” I scream as he steps closer. I shove my fingers into my hair, knocking the messy bun loose as I grasp at the strands in frustration.
“It’s fucking dangerous. You could have been fucking killed!”
“You don’t think I know that? I was in the car!”
“You could have been taken from me,” he roars as he grabs the lamp from the table next to the sofa, ripping the cord out of the socket, and flings it at the wall.
I stand there and watch as it shatters into millions of glittery little pieces. Fancy priceless antiques will do that. But it’s also the first time in a long time that I think maybe Rhys does care for me, at least more than he lets on. And how fucked up is that?
“I wasn’t,” I say, defiantly as I take the final steps toward him so that we’re toe to toe.
His chest rises and falls with his breaths, and he pauses, staring me down, before he finally speaks again. “Thank fuck for that.” And then he spears his fingers into the remainder of my messy bun, ripping the haphazard hair tie out the rest of the way as he pullsme against his chest and crushes his mouth to mine.
I don’t know what comes over me, one minute I’m so angry I might explode, and the next I’m nothing short of wild for this man. As his tongue presses against mine, dueling for control, I snap and start to tear at his clothes. His suit jacket and shirt are in my way, and I need them gone as I pluck the buttons as fast as I can and shove his clothes from his shoulders.
He pulls his mouth away from mine to rip my sweater and camisole over my head, leaving me bare from the waist up. A low, dark sound rumbles up from his chest before he crushes his mouth back to mine and grabs me by the hips, wrapping my legs around him, just in time to drop to his knees in the middle of the antique rug. The thick, hot ridge of him has very little resistance from my thin cotton pants and his trousers as it presses against me, right where I need him most.
I gasp when he shoves the coffee table out of the way, flowers and tabletop books flying around, and then he lowers me to the carpet. Kneeling over me, between my spread thighs, Rhys grabs the waistband of my leggings and my panties and rips both down my legs, tossing them aside.
“Rhys,” I pant when he thrusts two fingers inside of me to see if I’m ready and my body bows into him, against him. All I know is that I want more.I want him.
I try to clench my legs together to slow the fire that’s threatening to consume me but his hips are in the way, and I can’t take my eyes off of his hands as theyrush to unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants. The material falls open as he shoves them down his hips and his thick cock springs free.
“Not now, hen,” he says, his voice deep and growly as he leans over me. He lines up the very tip of him to my opening and thrusts inside of me. He’s still too angry for words and that’s all right by me because where we lack in verbal communication, we definitely do not when we let our bodies do the talking.
“Yes,” I rasp, shaking my head back and forth as I revel in the sting of the stretch while my body adjusts as he fills me up. But tonight, I don’t want to adjust. I don’t want soft and sweet. I want the sting and the heat and the burn of this fight. If he’s not ready to let go, then I’m not either. And maybe that’s true in more ways than one.
Thankfully, Rhys doesn’t want sweet and gentle either as he sits back on his heels, taking me with him. I quickly wrap my legs around his waist and hold on as he lifts me up and then impales me on his thick length so that only my hair trails over the historic ornamental rug. He leans forward and takes my nipple into his mouth, laving the hard tip with his tongue as he moves me over him.
I thrust my fingers into his hair and pull. But it’s when he bites down that I go wild. I yank on his hair and let out a high pitched whine as I arch my back and rock against him, rubbing my clit over the root of him as he works me up and down still.
