A Court of Mist and Fury (A Court of Thorns and Roses, #2)

by Sarah J. Maas

This time, his nose brushed the spot between my neck and shoulder, followed by a passing graze of his mouth. My breasts tightened, becoming full and heavy, aching—aching like what was now pooling in my core. Heat filled my face, my blood. But Keir said at last, as if his own self-control slipped the leash, “I had heard the rumors, and I didn’t quite believe them.” His gaze settled on me, on my breasts, peaked through the folds of my dress, of my legs, spread wider than they’d been minutes before, and Rhys’s hand in dangerous territory. “But it seems true: Tamlin’s pet is now owned by another master.” “You should see how I make her beg,” Rhys murmured, nudging my neck with his nose. Keir clasped his hands behind his back. “I assume you brought her to make a statement.” “You know everything I do is a statement.” “Of course. This one, it seems, you enjoy putting in cobwebs and crowns.” Rhys’s hand paused, and I sat straighter at the tone, the disgust. And I said to Keir in a voice that belonged to another woman, “Perhaps I’ll put a leash on you.” Rhys’s approval tapped against my mental shield, the hand at my ribs now making lazy circles. “She does enjoy playing,” he mused onto my shoulder. He jerked his chin toward the Steward. “Get her some wine.” Pure command. No politeness. Keir stiffened, but strode off. Rhys didn’t dare break from his mask, but the light kiss he pressed beneath my ear told me enough. Apology and gratitude—and more apologies. He didn’t like this any more...