Surprised, I started to look back at him, but he curled his finger, hitting a spot inside me that caused my legs to stiffen and my toes to curl into the blanket. “W-why not?”
“We were friends, and then we were more,” he said, the tension curling deeper and deeper inside me as my gaze darted across the fire, the canopies, and the shadows. Somehow, my focus ended up on Lyra and Kieran. They were no longer kissing. Lyra’s head was at his waist again, and his hand was balled in her hair, his hips moving— “But our relationship was never one of raw need. That doesn’t mean I cared any less about her, but it wasn’t like this. There was no constant need to be inside her in every way imaginable, and even ways not yet thought of. I never found myself constantly hungering, and I believe you need that to find yourself exploring those things with someone you’re committed to,” he said, and my breaths became shorter and shallower. “I never had what I have with you with her, Poppy.”
I don’t know if it was the things he was doing to my body, what was going on around us or his words, but I teetered on that edge and then tumbled over it, falling and crashing like the waves rolling against the beach. The shattering release left me trembling.
Once my heart slowed enough for the pleasure-induced fog to clear, I turned my head toward him. “Do you…do you want to do that with me?”
He kissed me as he eased his hand out from under my gown. “I want to do everything imaginable, and things no one has ever thought of with you,” he said. “But I only need you, Poppy. Now. Always.”
My heart skipped and then sped up as my chest swelled with so much love I felt as if I could float right to the stars. I twisted in his embrace, clasping his cheeks as I rose onto my knees. “I love you.” I kissed him, hoping that everything I felt for him could be communicated with that kiss, and then decided the kiss wasn’t enough. A tendril of excitement swept through me as I rocked back, grabbing his hands. “I want to go somewhere…private.”
Amber glowed from within hooded, sensual eyes. “We can go back—”
“No.” I didn’t want to wait. If I did, I would lose my nerve. “Is there not somewhere private here?”
The tips of his fangs became visible as he bit down on his lower lip and looked over his shoulder. “Yeah,” he said. “There is.”
Without another word, we rose. Under the moonlight, Casteel led me farther down the beach, to where I hadn’t seen the tree-heavy dunes in the darkness. He guided me around the first outcropping of trees and then stopped. It was so dark that I could barely make out his features as he looked down at me. “You’re up to something, aren’t you?”
“Maybe,” I admitted, grateful for the heavier shadows here as I took hold of the front of his shirt and stretched up, bringing his mouth to mine.
My heart thrummed as our tongues touched and danced, much as I had around the fire. We kissed and kissed, and even though he had to know this wasn’t why I’d sought privacy, he didn’t rush me. He just followed my lead, saying nothing as I pressed tiny kisses to the base of his throat. Sliding his palms up and down my arms, he remained quiet as I drew my hands down his chest. When I reached his stomach, I sank to my knees.
His hands fell away from me, hovering at my sides as I unhooked the flap of his breeches, feeling the rigid thickness there.
The taste of smoky spice consumed my senses as I reached in, wrapping my fingers around his warm, hard skin. He was breathing heavily now, and my heart raced as I eased him out. His skin felt like heated steel encased in silk as I tipped forward, halting when I felt him spasm in my hand.
“Poppy,” he ground out. I lifted my gaze, momentarily stunned by the churning flecks of bright gold in his eyes. A shudder worked its way through him. “You don’t have to do this.”
“I want to,” I told him. “Do you want me to?”
“You can do anything to me, and I’ll want it.” Another tremor worked its way through him. “This? My cock in your mouth? I’d have to be dead and nothing but ash to not want that.”
My lips twitched. “That’s…kind of flattering.”
He choked out a rough laugh. “You are—” He groaned as I glided my fingers from his base to his tip.
“Am what?”
His fingertips touched my cheek. “Everything.”
Smiling, I lowered my head. The salty taste of his skin was a surprise, dancing over my tongue. Tentatively, I moved my hand down his length, exploring as I brought him deeper into my mouth like I had read about in Willa’s diary.
“Poppy,” Casteel groaned, his palm flattening against my cheek.
She’d written about other things, stuff that reminded me of what Casteel had done for me, and I wasn’t sure if he’d enjoy that or not. But I…I wanted to do those things. I drew my tongue over his taut skin, finding a little indentation under the ridge of his head and swirling my tongue over it.
“Fuck.” His body jerked. “I…I wasn’t expecting that.”
Fighting a smile, I did it again, and he swore. “Did you read about that in Miss Willa’s book?”
I hummed out an agreement, and the act seemed to vibrate through him. His entire body flexed, and I felt him throb.
“Fuck,” he rasped. “I love that godsdamn diary.”
A laugh escaped me then, and based on the way his hips jerked, he liked how it felt. There was nothing in Miss Willa’s diary about laughing while doing this, but as I curled my hand around his base, I stopped thinking about that damn journal and just let instinct take over. I flicked my tongue across the head of his cock, marveling at his reaction—at the lazy heat swamping my senses. I liked doing this. Liked knowing he enjoyed it.
His hand slid from my cheek as his fingers threaded through my hair. He cupped the back of my neck, but he didn’t put any pressure there. All he did was move his thumb, gently massaging the muscles. It was a…supportive presence as he continued letting me learn what made his body move in short, shallow thrusts, what caused his breath to catch, and what made the spicy flavor intensify. I realized something. Not only did I like this but I also enjoyed the control, the way I could slow his breathing or increase the way he throbbed against my tongue just by the pressure of my mouth, or how hard or soft I sucked on his skin.
“Poppy, I’m not…gods, I’m not going to last much longer.” His grip on my neck tightened as he rocked against my hand, in my mouth. “And I don’t know if that diary spoke of what happens.”
It had.
And I wanted that. Wanted to feel him finish, to experience that, knowing I had brought him to that point. I drew my hand up the length of him, closing my mouth over his head. He shouted my name, and then his hips stiffened as he pulsed and spasmed against my tongue.
No sooner had I finished, and before I could even feel rather proud of myself, he dropped to his knees before me, clasping my cheeks. Tilting his head to the side, his mouth was suddenly on mine, his tongue against mine. The kiss was as demanding as it was worshipping, all-consuming as it left little room for anything else.
Casteel lifted his head, his eyes locked on mine. “You,” he said, his voice thick and tone reverent. “All I ever need is you. Now. Always.”
Chapter 25
Casteel and I had spent the day before living, so we would spend today ensuring we had more days like yesterday.
We would meet with his parents.
But first, we needed to get out of bed, something neither of us seemed in a rush to do. While Casteel toyed with my hair, we chatted about what I had seen the day before, which included me waxing on rather poetically about the frozen treat I’d consumed.
In a lull of silence as I convinced myself it was far past time to get up, Casteel asked, “When you healed that girl yesterday, did you notice anything different about your abilities?”
“Not really,” I told him as I traced figure eights across his chest. “Well, I’m not sure if that’s true. When I healed Beckett’s injuries, I didn’t really need to think about it. It just happened. But this time, I had to do what I nor
mally did before.”
“Think of happy memories?” He twisted a strand of hair around his finger.
“Yes. I thought of when we married.” I lifted my head, resting my chin on his chest. He smiled softly at me. “And I thought about how unfair the girl’s injuries were, and I…”
“What?”
I drew my lip between my teeth. “It seems silly to even consider this, but I did think to myself that it wasn’t too late—that she would live while my hands were on her.”
His gaze coasted over my features. “Did you know that she was already gone?”
“I…” I’d started to deny it, but I stopped myself as what Casteel had said the morning before resurfaced. Denial was no longer a luxury. He spoke of the Crown, but the same logic applied here. “I can’t say that she was gone for certain, but she was close.”
He slowly unwound my hair. “Then you either willed her soul to remain with her, or you brought her back to life, Poppy.”
My heart tripped over itself. “It’s hard for me to accept that, but I think I did.” Hair tumbled over my shoulders as I rose onto my knees. “It makes sense that I can do that because of who Nyktos is, but it’s kind of—”
“Amazing.” He carefully untangled his hand from my hair.
“I was going to go with unnerving,” I said.
His brow furrowed. “You gave that child a second chance at life. How can that be anything but marvelous?”
I glanced down at my hands, unsure of how to explain what I was thinking. “It’s just that kind of ability…is powerful in a frightening way.”
“Explain.”
Sighing, I shook my head. “I know the people who saw what happened yesterday think I am a deity—”
“I believe they think you’re a goddess,” he countered. “And there is a difference between the two.”
“Okay. They think I’m a goddess. But we both know that isn’t the case,” I pointed out, and he simply raised a brow. I rolled my eyes. “Either way, doing that felt like…playing god. It feels like an ability that could be misused without even realizing it—that is if I can even do it again.”
He was quiet for a moment. “Do you think it was her time, and you interfered?”
I stiffened. “I cannot believe that it was time for anyone that young to pass on to the Vale. I don’t think that at all.”
“Neither do I.” He tapped his fingers on my hand. “But you’re worried about interfering when it is someone’s time, aren’t you? Because if someone is hurt and dying, you won’t be able to stand by and allow that.”
He knew me all too well. “How do you know when it’s someone’s time?” I asked and then laughed at the absurdity of the question. “How would any of us know that?”
“We don’t.” His eyes met mine. “I think all we can do is what feels right. It felt right for you to save that girl. But maybe another time will come when it won’t feel right.”
I couldn’t imagine a time when helping someone wouldn’t feel right, but that kind of unanswerable question would have to wait. We needed to get ready for the day.
A nervous sort of energy buzzed through me that had nothing to do with our conversation as I changed into black leggings and a sleeveless wrap tunic dyed in a shade that reminded me of Jasper’s hair and fur. I was surprised that the delicate silver chain held the tunic together, and I only hoped it remained that way throughout the day. The last thing I needed was to expose the nearly transparent slip I wore underneath.
Then again, considering how Casteel’s father had last seen me, it probably wouldn’t come as much of a shock.
But I just wanted things to go smoothly between his parents and me because I knew if they didn’t, the path would be rocky between Casteel and his parents going forward.
The moment I joined him in the sitting room, his fingers found their way into the waves and curls of my hair. “I love your hair like this,” he murmured. “I’m beginning to think you do this because you know I become distracted by it.”
I grinned as we stepped outside the room, my nervousness easing a bit. “Maybe,” I said, even though I’d totally left it down because I knew he liked it like this.
And because I’d spent years with the heavy length pinned tightly back and up.
“Did you still want to see Kirha before we leave?” he asked.
I nodded. I’d mentioned this morning that I wanted to thank her for the clothing and her hospitality before we left to meet with the current Queen and King of Atlantia. Casteel had already sent word ahead of our impending arrival. With his hand folded around mine, he led me out into the breezeway, where ceiling fans churned overhead, stirring the scent of cinnamon and cloves that seeped out from the open windows of rooms facing the pathway.
If it weren’t for the faded, oily stains on the walkway and the darkening of the dirt every couple of yards, it would be hard to imagine that those faceless creatures had been here two nights before. But they had, and Casteel and I were prepared in case the Gyrms appeared once more. I carried the wolven dagger hidden beneath my tunic, and Casteel had two short swords strapped to his sides. We also weren’t alone.
A wolven with fur as dark as Stygian Bay prowled along the top of the courtyard wall, tracking our progress. I had a feeling he or she wasn’t the only wolven nearby as we stepped out from the breezeway and onto an earthen path lined with tall palms. The fan-shaped leaves provided adequate shade from the late-morning sun as we followed the winding walkway. Bursts of color from tiny wildflowers and vivid pink and purple blossoms peeked out from the tangled vines that swept over the walls in some sections and blanketed most of the garden floor. The garden was nothing like the showy and wildly diverse ones in Masadonia, but I liked the earthy, natural feel of it. And I had a feeling that no matter how many times one walked the pathways, they would find something new among the foliage.
We rounded a bend, and a patio became visible. Several stone benches and wooden stools that appeared to have been crafted from the trunks of trees encircled a large fire pit. The gray stone patio led straight to the open doors of an airy, sun-drenched room.
Among the plants placed on small tables and growing from large clay pots on the tile floor, oversized chairs with thick cushions and brightly colored ottomans were situated in clusters next to wide couches and settees. Large floor pillows in every shade of blue imaginable were scattered across the floor, but Kirha Contou sat on a plush, teal rug in the center of the room, legs crossed, and her head bowed. Narrow rows of small, tight braids were swept up and pinned back from her face as she rooted around in a basket of yarn. Her son was with her.
Wearing all black, Kieran stood out rather starkly in the colorful room. He sat beside her, leaning against one of the chair backs, his long legs stretched out in front of him. He held a ball of orange yarn in one hand and a white one in the other. Several more lay in his lap, and the image of him sitting there, a faint smile softening the handsome lines of his face as he watched his mother, would be forever imprinted on my brain.
Both of them looked up as Casteel and I neared the doors. My senses were open, and their emotions immediately stretched out, the cool splash of surprise I felt from Kieran as the orange ball of yarn fell from his hand and rolled across the rug caught me a little off guard. If Kieran had been aware that Casteel and I had witnessed his…activities in the shadows, he showed no sign of it as we’d ridden back to his family home under a sky blanketed by endless stars.
Even if he did, I didn’t think that was the source of the surprise. I had no idea what it was as I focused on the woman beside him.
His mother was utterly beautiful—the spitting image of Vonetta from her deep, rich brown skin and broad cheekbones to the full mouth that seemed to hint at a laugh. What I felt from her also reminded me of her daughter. The taste of smooth vanilla was as comforting as a warm blanket on a cold night.
I realized I had seen her before when I first arrived here. She’d been in the crowd of wolven and had smiled as Casteel
and I bickered.
“Kieran,” Casteel drawled. He squeezed my hand as we stepped through the doors and then let go. “Are you knitting me a shirt?”
The wolven’s expression smoothed out. “That is exactly what I’m doing,” he replied, his tone flat.
“He’s actually very good with the needles,” Kirha said, placing the basket aside.
The syrupy-sweet taste of embarrassment radiated from Kieran as his cheeks deepened in color. His gaze narrowed on his mother. My brows lifted as the image that had been branded in my mind was now replaced by one that included Kieran knitting a shirt.
That was something that would never leave my mind.
Kirha started to rise as Casteel rushed to say,” You don’t need to get up.”
“Oh, but I do. I’ve been sitting for so long, I feel like my legs have gone numb,” she replied as balls of yarn spilled from Kieran’s lap and tumbled across the carpet. He took hold of his mother’s arm, aiding her.
Kirha murmured her thanks as she straightened. Under the lavender, sleeveless gown she wore, her swollen stomach pulled at the light material. She pressed a hand behind her hip and stretched her back. “Good gods, this better be the last baby.”
“Yeah, well, someone needs to make sure your husband gets that through his thick skull,” Kieran muttered.
“Your father will when he’s constantly changing diapers again. I birth them, he cleans them,” she remarked, grinning when Kieran wrinkled his nose. “That’s the deal.”
“I’ll have to remember that,” Casteel murmured.
My stomach dropped so fast I almost toppled over as my wide eyes shot to Casteel. For some reason, I hadn’t even thought about…babies since the cavern—since I had thought he didn’t want to have children with me. I’d been hurt then, which had been irrationally silly, considering we hadn’t even admitted our feelings to one another yet. He was still taking the herb that prevented pregnancy, and as a Maiden, I’d believed I would Ascend. Having children was never something I’d ever considered, so it wasn’t something that lingered in my mind. But now it was dancing at the center. A baby. Babies. Casteel’s and my baby. Casteel holding a small, swaddled infant. My lips parted on a thin inhale. That was really something I did not need to think about at the moment.
The Crown of Gilded Bones (Blood And Ash Series Book 3) Page 34