I squirmed, gasping as pleasure sparked.
“Gods, Poppy. I’m trying—” A sound rumbled from him, vibrating through me. “I’m trying to make sure you’re ready.”
“I’m ready,” I told him. I’ve been ready.
He cursed, but then he moved, thrusting his hips up as the hand on mine pulled down. My eyes went wide at the raw sensation of him moving inside me, slow and deep. I sighed, muscles I didn’t realize were even tense relaxing.
“That’s it.” His words were barely a whisper. “Gods, you feel…” The hand guiding me spasmed and then loosened as I lifted myself on his length. “You feel like all I could ever want.”
I’d never wanted to believe something more in my life, and that realization threatened everything.
“We’re being real,” I reminded him, seeking out his mouth. “Don’t lie to me now.”
He went rigid against me for a handful of seconds, and then he bit out a harsh laugh. “You’re right.” His hand fisted in my hair, pulling my head back. “We don’t need to lie now.”
His mouth covered mine, and one of his fangs scraped my lip, dragging a husky moan from me. A staggered heartbeat later, we were back at that rock, one of his arms around me and the other hand in my hair, the only things between the hard surface and my skin as he rolled into me, pinning my hips.
And then he did what he promised.
Casteel fucked.
His hips slammed into mine, and the way I was held there, all I could do was whatever he demanded. I held on as the frothy water foamed and bubbled violently around us. Each thrust of his hips felt as greedy as the strokes of my tongue against his. Every plunge of his hips felt more like an act of possession than the one before. My head fell back but never reached the rock because of his hand, and the world was a kaleidoscope of broken sunlight, slate-colored walls, and vibrant petals. I tightened—everything in me tightened as his head dropped to my shoulder, his body grinding into mine. I curled myself around him, pressing my face into his neck, tasting the sweet water and the salt of his skin. My pulse thundered through me, his just as strong against my cheek. Our bodies moved in a frenzy, and it felt like he was everywhere at once, stealing my breath. There was no hesitation. No slowing down or coming up for air. We were both swept away in the madness, lost in the tension coiling tighter and tighter. I thought it would shatter me, shatter us both, but he gave me what I wanted so badly.
The feel of his skin against mine crowded out the world until there was only us. The touch of his lips against my neck, my cheek, had already chased away any protests. His mouth found mine once more as his hands held me so tightly to him, so carefully, preventing the sting of guilt from even forming. He moved so deeply inside me that I couldn’t feel anything but him, and when release found me, it also found him, devouring us both, leaving no room to fear what awaited and making what seemed impossible, possible.
I felt weightless in Casteel’s arms, cheek resting on his shoulder and feet floating several inches above the pool’s floor. I’d attempted to move away earlier, after the last of the pleasure abated and reality started to seep in with the fading sunlight. I didn’t make it far, though. Casteel didn’t let me. He kept his arms around me.
“Not yet,” he’d said as he guided my cheek to his shoulder.
It felt like permission. I didn’t fight him. I blamed a lot of things for this, even though I had no desire to fight him then. The warmth of the pool and his skin for starters. The way he moved his hand up and down my spine was entirely too soothing. The languidness in my body was also at fault, and so was the truth that it felt lovely to be held, especially like this, with no barriers between us.
After being forbidden human touch for so long, his nakedness was like being offered a platter of the most decadent chocolates and sweets. I traced tiny circles on his other shoulder, wishing I had the courage to explore the hardness, the indents and scars. Instead, I satisfied my curiosity with the way his skin felt under my fingers and how his body felt like steel wrapped in satin.
And I…gods, I soaked in every moment, my eyes glued to the side of his neck, the damp curl of his hair. In the secret chambers of my heart, I cherished these moments.
I didn’t know how long we stayed like that, nothing but the sound of the water and the calls of the birds outside around us. Casteel seemed to know exactly when someone neared the cave.
“It’s Kieran. He’s the only one who would know to find me here.” He gently disentangled himself from me, and I thought I felt his lips brush over the crown of my head. “I’ll be right back.”
I sank to my shoulders as he glided through the water and then rose. I got an eyeful, one that shouldn’t have heated my face as much as it did given what we’d done. He stopped to grab his pants, but didn’t pull them on.
Casteel walked out of the cavern as naked as the day he was born, and if he didn’t stop to put on those pants, Kieran was about to get one hell of an eyeful.
“Okay, then,” I whispered and then laughed, the sound echoing in the chamber.
My head fell back as I stared at the slivers of sunlight, searching for remorse or shame. Like before, I only found uncertainty. Not for what we’d shared, but for what it meant. We hadn’t been pretending.
What we’d shared had been real. No games. No pretenses. No half-truths.
I dragged my teeth over my lower lip. It felt swollen from his kisses. I lifted my fingers to my mouth, shivering as I thought of how he’d claimed it just as thoroughly as he’d done with the rest of my body.
I turned at the sound of Casteel’s footsteps. Thank all the gods, he was halfway clothed. The flap of buttons was undone, though, and I had no idea how the pants stayed on his hips. He carried a white bundle in his hands, which he laid carefully on the floor of the cave.
“Kieran figured we were headed here. He brought some fresh clothes for both of us and a towel.”
I couldn’t even fathom how Kieran had been that intuitive, and I probably didn’t want to know.
He extended a hand, offering a thick, white towel. “It goes without saying that I prefer the naked, wet version of you. But it’s time to dry off and be presentable.”
I shook my head as I moved forward, slowing when the bubbling water started to drop below my chest. Why was I hesitating? It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen my breasts, the scars, and everything else. He was waiting, watching me, and hadn’t I done the same earlier? Watched him undress unabashedly? Shoring up courage, I continued on, and the strangest thing happened. Each step became easier, even as the water dropped to my ribcage and then to my navel. Even as Casteel’s gaze followed the water level. His lips parted slightly, and I was confident that Nyktos himself could arrive, and Casteel wouldn’t look away from me. I realized there was power in that, in being a source of distraction for him. The edges of his fangs dragged over his lower lip as the water fizzed around my inner thighs and then lower. Pretending or not, he enjoyed what he saw as I climbed the earthen steps.
“I’ll help.” He spread the towel wide. “I know you don’t need it, but I want to.”
I said nothing as I stood in front of him, bare as he’d been. He stepped in behind me, rubbing the towel over my wet hair.
“This should be dried first,” he explained, and I was fully aware that he was staring down at me as he squeezed the excess water from my hair. I knew he saw the tips of my breasts pucker and could see the flush I felt tinting my skin.
“Wouldn’t want you to catch a cold,” he said, voice rough. “That’s what I hear about wet hair.”
“Uh-huh.” My jaw worked as a smile tugged at my lips.
“I’m just being thorough.” He slid the towel down my arms, all the way to the tips of my fingers and then across my back. “You’ll thank me later.”
“For being thorough?”
“Among other things.” He dragged the cloth over my stomach and then up, catching the water between my breasts. His hands lingered there before he turned me to him.
He knelt before me, sending my stomach tumbling as he drew the towel up my left leg, then my right, and finally between them. I sucked in a sharp breath, swaying slightly.
“Just being thorough,” he reminded me, his eyes hooded. “I wouldn’t want you unnecessarily wet, Princess.”
I had a feeling he meant something else.
The towel smoothed over my backside. “I think you’re all dry now.” His gaze slowly made its way to mine. “Mostly.”
Yes.
Mostly.
Grinning, he leaned his head down and kissed the faded, jagged scar on my inner thigh. The act startled me out of the pleasant haze. I watched him rise, a thousand different thoughts racing through my head as he wrapped the towel around me.
I grabbed hold of the edges. “Casteel—”
“I know.” He placed a finger over my lips. “What we’ve done here stays here.”
I blinked, stung at once by words I wasn’t sure I even understood. I wasn’t going to say that. I honestly didn’t know what I was going to say.
He turned, picking up the white shirt, which was such a contrast against his tan skin. A lock of dark hair toppled over his forehead, softening his features as he bent his head, buttoning his pants. There was a curl low in my stomach. How could he make such an ordinary act as dressing appear so sensual?