Page 41 of Enemies with an Earl
Something warred in that black gaze. Like if landing a blow would be worth the consequences. And right now? God, Felix hoped Thorne’d take the chance. Because he was fucking itching for a fight. But the man didn’t move, eerily still, the stillness of a man trying with all his might to restrain himself.
Felix scoffed and spun on his heel. “Coward,” he muttered under his breath.
He strode the few paces to his door, but as soon as he crossed the threshold, he was yanked backward and immediately thrust face-first into his bedchamber wall. A grunt burst from him. Some unhinged part of himself deep inside cheered. The one that wanted to fight, wanted to rage, wanted to let out two bloody decades of anger. No, more than that. Because it wasn’t even William Minton anymore. It was the wholefuckingworld.
“You have no bloody right to be angry,” he bit out, cheek flattened against cool stone. He drew in a deep breath and then shoved off the wall. He didn’t get far, but it was enough to knock Thorne off balance.
“That man had hisfucking cockdown my little sister’s throat. He deserved everything I gave him,” he growled. “And. More.”
“Clearly, your sister wanted it.”
Felix’s vision dotted over. His entire body shook violently with tension, with repressed bloodlust. He lunged for the ox, his fury exploding in a shout. He changed his mind. Forget the fucking Duke. Thorne needed to die.
“No onetouches my family.”
They clashed again, both struggling for the upper hand. Thorne won and shoved Felix into the wall.
“God, you’re insane,” he spat. “Your sister is a blasted grown woman. Do you know her at all? No one can make that woman do anything she doesn’t want to do.”
Felix slipped out of Thorne’s hold and spun, then shoved into Thorne so the man was now where Felix had just stood. Pinned. Felix snarled. He didn’t bloody care what the man had just said was true.
“So that means the Duke should just take advantage of her? Where is his honor? His principles? That’s hisson’sfiancé.”
Thorne smiled, but it was thick with contempt. He leaned forward, towering, dark hair dangling ominously over his brow. One of those ebony brows winged up. “Not any longer.” Then his hands landed on Felix’s chest, and he thrust.
Felix stumbled backward, ribcage surging. “So, what? He’s free to just use my sister now?”
They circled each other slowly, gazes locked, their breaths echoing like a discharged pistol.
“Perhaps, if you had half a mind, you would havediscussedthe situation with your sister. Instead of laying your hands on my best friend.”
Felix scoffed. The man’s rationality only made his ire burn hotter. So, instead of acknowledging the man had a point, he lunged. Thorne was ready, though. He caught Felix around the middle and pivoted. In the next blink, Felix’s body was slammed into the wall with brutal force, trapped against the wall by fifteen stones of enraged male.
Thorne leaned forward, infuriating berry-scented breath fanning over Felix’s face. His fists tightened on Felix’s wrists. “Get it through your thick skull. She. Wanted. It.”
Felix dragged in a breath, shaky with rage. His gaze dipped to those mocking lips. He didn’t want to hear anything more from them. He didn’t want perspective.
He wanted pandemonium.
His attention flicked back to Thorne’s stormy gaze. A gaze that was heady, unpredictable. All consuming.
Sound dimmed.
Time slowed.
The air crackled around them, their underlying hostility like a physical presence. They dared each other with nothing but the enmity swirling in their stares. The space around them shifted, the tension turning from resentful to…ravenous.
“Fuck it.” Thorne’s mouth crashed down on Felix’s.
His kiss was punishing. Painful. But Felix wasn’t going to let Thorne win in this, either. Felix pushed off the wall and spun them, reversing their position. The minute Thorne’s back hit the stone, Felix’s tongue surged into the man’s mouth. They separated long enough to spit curses at each other before they were on each other again. Felix bit down on Thorne’s bottom lip until a faint metallic tang touched his tongue. Thorne’s hand dove into Felix’s hair and pulled. Then twisted. Felix immediately let go of Thorne’s lip, barely holding back the cry of pain.
Thorne took advantage of Felix’s awkward stance and pushed Felix off him. Then he advanced on Felix.
Felix wanted to scream, to roar. He didn’t know what way was up, what way was down. He was so out of control. And so much of that was this man’s fault.
“You are the most insolent, bloody arse I have ever met,” Felix hurled at Thorne. He wanted to blame it all on the dark-haired, dark-eyed man coming at him.
Needed a target.
