Total pages in book: 244
Estimated words: 230170 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1151(@200wpm)___ 921(@250wpm)___ 767(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 230170 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1151(@200wpm)___ 921(@250wpm)___ 767(@300wpm)
My laugh ended in another moan as he returned to his dinner. “‘He grasped my hips with those large hands of his and held me there, between him and the wall, as he slid into me. I tried to keep quiet, but no—’” I cried out as his mouth closed on the bundle of nerves, and he suckled deeply.
The scrape of his fang sent an intense bolt of pleasure through me. My legs attempted to close reflexively, but he caught an ankle, preventing it as he tugged on the skin there. Tension tightened and curled and throbbed—
His mouth left me. “Keep reading, Poppy.”
Struggling to breathe, I wasn’t sure if I could read, but I managed to find where I’d stopped. “‘But no one…fucked as passionately as a soldier on the eve of battle.’”
The chuckle that left Casteel was sensual and dark. “Keep going.” He flicked his tongue over the pulsing pinnacle. “And I’ll keep enjoying my appetizer.”
I blinked several times. “‘He took me…hard and furiously, and I knew I would bear the marks of such on the morrow, but I…’” My hips lifted as he worked a finger into me. He wasn’t slow. He didn’t need to be. I was as primed as I imagined Miss Willa had been. “‘I will wear those marks with more than fond memories. I will think of how his hips pounded against mine, how his…his cock stretched and filled me…’” As I read from the indecent diary, Casteel enjoyed his appetizer with his fingers and his mouth, until I no longer knew what I read. Until I couldn’t make sense of the words, and the journal slipped from my grip, falling closed on the desk, and I shamelessly writhed against his mouth and hand. The release came all at once, rushing over me in stunning, crashing waves.
I was still trembling when he rose above me, tearing at his breeches. His…his cock was just as hard as the one I’d read about, just as proud and…glistening with a bead of liquid.
“Poppy?” he breathed as his lips danced over my jaw, down my throat.
“Cas?”
The sound he made nearly sent me over the edge all over again. “I just want you to know one thing.” His mouth hovered over my wildly beating pulse before he eased me onto my back. He gripped my hips, tugging me to the edge of the desk. My feet slipped free of the arms of the chair. I curled my legs around his waist as his lips skated down my throat, over my chest, and to the aching tip of a breast. “I’m still in complete control.”
He thrust into me at the same moment his fangs pierced my skin. Twin bursts of fiery pain lanced my breast, stunning me for a brief second, and then my entire body spasmed at the deep, staggering pull of his mouth. He devoured, and he fucked, just as he’d said he wanted to. Heat flowed through my body, igniting a fire that couldn’t be controlled. He drank from me as his body moved in and out of me, and when he lifted his head from the tingling skin of my breast and bit into his wrist, I didn’t look away from the bright red liquid welling on his skin.
“Just in case you need it,” he rasped, lips smeared crimson with my blood, with his.
I didn’t think about it. Maybe later I would wonder why it felt so natural to sit up and close my mouth over the wound, and what that could signify for later, but I was beyond thinking.
I drew his blood into me, struck first by the citrus-in-the-snow scent and then the luscious, dark taste of him. My mouth and then throat tingled as he filled me, thick and warm. I drank as images of pine and snow-draped limbs flashed, and the feel of the cold snow against my skin surfaced. I knew he was thinking about us in the woods. I let myself fall into that memory, into the taste of him and the power that was his blood. I didn’t know how he moved us to the bed, but we were suddenly there, and his mouth was on mine, and our combined taste was in me. Casteel moved slowly, tenderly, and this…this was different than what we had done on that desk. In this moment, I felt bonded to him. It was more than just sex, more than two bodies enjoying each other. It was us, living and loving one another.
Casteel and I lay there, our skin cooling in the breeze coming in from the opening of the small cabin window as the ship gently rocked on the waters of the Stroud Sea. His chest was pressed to my back as he traced idle circles down my arm, and I toyed with his other hand. He’d shucked off his clothing at some point, and the soft fur of the blanket lay pooled at our feet. There would’ve been a time when I would’ve balked at the idea of being so exposed, but not with Casteel. Never with him.