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“Really?” I stated dryly.
“Yes. My ego got diminished somewhere between Saion’s Cove and here,” he said. “I am now in need of your assurances.”
There wasn’t a single part of me that believed Casteel’s ego was capable of weakening. Or that he believed I’d dreamt of another. In fact, I doubted his ego would even allow that to enter his mind.
But I’d learned that two could tease. “You’re right.” I drew a finger down the defined line of his chest. “It was another—”
He gave my rear a light smack, catching me off guard. Surprise caused me to let out a little squeak, but a dart of wicked heat made me jerk.
My eyes narrowed on him. “That was uncalled for.”
Casteel’s chuckle danced over my lips. “You liked it.” Unfortunately, he was right. He palmed the flesh he’d tapped. “And I know you weren’t dreaming of another.”
“Then why did you suggest such a thing?”
He moved his leg again, nestling his thigh between mine. “Because I wanted to bask in the glory of your assurances.”
“You’re insufferable,” I said, fighting a laugh.
“You meant to say insatiable.” Casteel’s head lowered, his mouth finding mine with unerring accuracy.
I immediately opened for Casteel. His kisses were compulsory, even these slow, languid ones where he seemed to sip from my lips. Tiny shivers broke out across my skin as his tongue flicked over mine in an intimate, sensual dance.
Using the hand on my rear, Casteel hauled me closer. I gasped as those coarse leg hairs dragged across the most sensitive part of me. The unexpected friction caused my hips to twitch.
“I love how responsive your body is to mine.” He pressed his thigh up, causing more friction against me. I shuddered as darts of pleasure radiated out from my core. A deeper, dark chuckle teased my lips. “Have I told you that?”
Before I could think if he had, the hand on my rear tugged me onto his thigh, and he moved his leg up again, hitting that taut bundle of flesh. Tighter, hotter ripples of pleasure skated through me.
Casteel’s lips returned to mine. My fingers curled, digging into his chest as he moved me again. The kiss deepened, and he rocked my hips against his hard thigh. Soon, I needed little guidance. His growl of approval rumbled through me as my thighs tightened around his, and I strained against him, feeling my breath picking up and my core clenching. I knew I was damp against his skin. Wet. My cheeks warmed, knowing he could feel my slickness.
His head tilted, and the kiss turned harder, fiercer. Then he broke the contact, his arm clamping down on my hips, stilling me.
“Cas,” I cried out, my body vibrating with unspent desire.
Nipping at my lips, he made that deep sound again. “I need to be inside you when you come, and I need you on top, riding me when you do.”
I swallowed a moan. “I want that.”
He grasped my wrist, drawing it down between us. My fingers brushed his hot, rigid length. He folded my hand around his cock. “Then do it.”
Upon his heated demand, a full-body shudder rocked me. I flattened one hand against his chest and urged him onto his back. Both of his hands went to my hips, steadying me as I straddled him. With my hand still encircling the base of his cock, I started to lower myself. My moan got lost in his groan as the head of his cock parted me. Shaking, I planted both palms on his chest and sank onto his length, inch by inch, until our bodies were flush.
Panting, I held myself still, my body adjusting to his size. His thickness seemed to stretch and fill every part of my being. There was a sharp, intense swelling of pleasure that almost bordered on pain as Casteel’s fingers pressed into the flesh of my hips. My eyes opened, drifting over the tightly packed muscles of his abdomen, his chest, and then the stark tendons of his throat. He held himself still, his jaw clenched as he gave me time.
He always gave me time.
“I love you,” I whispered, tipping forward to kiss him. The position sent a wave of harsh pleasure through me.
Casteel groaned, his fingers spasming on me. “Show me,” he rasped. “Show me how much.”
And I did.
I began to move. It took a few moments for me to find my rhythm, but he didn’t rush me, just allowed me to find the spot that hit just right. Liquid heat flooded my core when I did. I moved faster then, his groans a decadent cacophony as I looked down at us—at me and our bodies.
“Beautiful,” he growled. “You’re so damn beautiful, Poppy.”
I flushed, my breath quickening. My gaze lowered to my swaying breasts, the hardened tips piercing the strands of my hair, to the rounded curve of my lower stomach that no amount of training ever flattened, and the scars there, faint in the moonlight. I saw his hands on my hips, his fingers creating indents in the flesh there. I could see the scars on my thighs, and my legs’ thickness and strength from years of training. Unlike Casteel, whose body was hard and defined—every inch of him—I was strong, but under a layer—or two—of softness. I shuddered as I moved up and down his length, watching myself take him into me until I lifted my gaze to his.
