Page 151 of Of Masks and Fury

“Oh,” he agreed, tracing his fingertip across my lower lip. “So I’ll ask again, Minx. Why are we in your room instead of mine?”

I recovered enough to smile, letting my fingers trail up his chest. “Maybe I wanted to make you work for it.”

A growl rumbled in his chest. “I helped you escape a dungeon, flew you across the wasteland on dragonback, and fought my way through your father’s guards to find you. I’d say I’ve been working for it since the moment we met.”

“Fair point.”

“So?” His hand slid from my face to my neck, his fingers tangling in my hair. “Where should you sleep tonight, Princess?”

My title, spoken in that rough voice, sent shivers down my spine. “I suppose your bedismore comfortable.”

“It is.”

“And your rooms have that lovely balcony.”

“They do.”

“And you did go through all that trouble of warding them.”

“I did.” His grip on my hair tightened enough to make my scalp tingle. “Any other observations you’d like to make? Or are you going to stop being stubborn and admit you belong in my rooms?”

Desire flooded through me at the possessive edge in his voice. “I’m not being stubborn.”

“No?” He leaned closer, his lips brushing my ear. “Then what are you being?”

“Difficult.”

His laugh came out low and dark and full of promise. “You are.”

Before I could respond, he moved. One moment I was sitting on his lap, and the next he’d surged to his feet with me in his arms. He tossed me over his shoulder, his hand landing firmly on my ass.

“Trew!”

“You had your chance to cooperate,” he said, already striding toward the door. “Now we do this my way.”

Pherin launched from the headboard with a chirp. Gavelle joined her, both companions swooping through the door as Trew yanked it open.

“Someone might see us,” I said, laughter bubbling up in my chest.

His hand flexed against my backside. “Let them see.”

He moved through the corridor, his long strides eating up the distance. I caught glimpses of torch-lit stone, of tapestries and doorways, but mostly the flex of his back muscles beneath his tunic.

A servant rounded a corner and froze at the sight of us. Trew didn’t slow.

“Evening,” he said pleasantly, as if carrying me through the palace like a sack of grain was perfectly normal.

The servant stammered and pressed against the wall to let us pass.

“You’re impossible,” I said, but I was smiling.

“I am.” He kicked open the door to his chambers. “It’s past time you remembered that.”

Pherin and Gavelle flew in ahead of us, heading straight for the balcony where their perches waited. I caught a glimpse of the fire burning in the hearth, the comfortable furniture, and papers strewn across his desk before Trew carried me to the bedroom.

He tossed me onto the bed with enough force that I bounced. I scrambled to sit up, but he was already there, caging me with his body. His hands braced on either side of my head, his knees bracketing my hips.

“This is where you belong from now on,” he said, his voice rough with need. “In my bed. In my rooms. Do you understand?”