Total pages in book: 401
Estimated words: 390373 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1952(@200wpm)___ 1561(@250wpm)___ 1301(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 390373 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1952(@200wpm)___ 1561(@250wpm)___ 1301(@300wpm)
A soft whimper snapped my head off the pillow.
“Poppy?” My sleep-roughened voice scratched against my throat.
She shuddered against me, her breath hitching, fingers twisting in the blanket. Another broken cry escaped her as her lashes trembled.
Shit.
Kieran had said she’d barely slept when we were apart, and when she did, she always had nightmares. But as far as I knew, she hadn’t had any since we were reunited. Fuck, I’d barely had any since she became mine. Her breathing picked up as she jerked, likely caught in memories of the night the Craven had scarred her—or any of the other countless things that’d happened since.
“It’s okay.” Lifting an arm, I gently scooped strands of hair back from her face. Her body tensed. “I’ve got you, and nothing—absolutely nothing—can touch you.” I pressed a kiss to her temple. “You’re safe.”
A tremor ran through her, and the tension seeped out of her muscles. She shifted, wiggling her ass as if seeking to get closer. It would be adorable, except we were both nude, and her wiggling ass was rubbing against my cock.
I held myself still, ignoring the heat gathering in my gut. She needed her sleep. Both of us did, but especially her. Sleep was important after a Culling. So was food and blood. And she would probably need to feed again soon—
Fuck.
My dick throbbed as I thought about her fangs at my throat—better yet, at the vein on my inner thigh as she stroked me—
Why was I thinking about that? Clearly, I was a glutton for punishment.
I scooted my hips back, hoping it would help. It did. For about five seconds. Poppy grumbled something incoherent under her breath, sounding like a very frustrated small animal, and squirmed until her ass was once more nestled against my cock. The humming sound that came from her then was breathy and soft. Pleased.
“For fuck’s sake,” I groaned, my molars grinding.
Poppy stiffened, then her chest rose. Her eyes fluttered open, her head jerking to the side. Our eyes locked. In the dim light of the approaching dawn, the splotches of green, blue, and brown in her eyes swirled wildly around her pupils before slowing and shrinking into flecks of vivid color.
“Hey,” she whispered, her voice husky with sleep.
The greeting drew a smile out of me. “Hey, yourself.”
Blinking a few times, she wet her lips and then swallowed. “Is there a reason you’re staring at me while I sleep?”
“Would you think it was creepy if I said there wasn’t?”
“A little.”
Chuckling, I dropped a kiss onto her forehead. “You were having a nightmare.”
“Oh.” She turned her head, and a pink flush crept into her face.
I kissed her cheek, this time brushing my lips over her scar. “Was it about Lockswood?”
“I…don’t exactly remember.” She closed her eyes.
I lifted my head, my gaze sharpening on her profile. Poppy remembered her nightmares. They were so visceral that it was as if she relived those moments. Why would she lie?
“Cas?”
“Yeah?” I forced my voice to stay light.
“If I was having a nightmare,” she said, once more opening her eyes and turning her head to me, “then why is your…cock hard?”
Muscles in my abdomen clenched at hearing her say that word. Cock.
“I’m pretty sure that’s what woke me,” she continued.
“It’s your fault.”
Her lips pursed. “How is it my fault?”
“Once you settled from the nightmare, you started wiggling your ass against me,” I told her. “And I, being thoughtful and not wanting to wake you—”
“Really?” she said dryly.
“Yes. Really. I tried to move away. But then you grumbled at me, sounding like an angry, feral cat.”
Poppy’s eyes widened. “I did not!”
“You’re right. You sounded more like an angry kitten as you plastered that ass against my cock.” I paused, fighting a grin as her cheeks flushed a deeper pink. “Then you made a noise—”
“I don’t believe any of this.”
“—that sounded like a happy but feral cat having just been fu—”
“Ass!” Poppy tried to ram me with her elbow, but all she ended up doing was jamming it into her own side with a grunt.
I laughed. “Nice.”
“I’m about to show you nice,” she growled.
I sighed. “You’re back to sounding like an angry feral kitten.”
“You’re so fuck—”
“Able?”
Her brows pinched together. “What?”
“Fuckable.”
“Oh, my gods.” Rolling her eyes, she flopped onto her back with the grace of a lamaea. The cream blanket had slipped, drawing my gaze down to the faded scar between her breasts. A shudder went through me, and I locked up. In a heartbeat, I saw her tangled in roots, bleeding out before me.
“Cas?” She touched my shoulder.
Blinking, I pushed down the blade-sharp panic. “Poppy?”
“You okay?”
I exhaled slowly, watching as she lowered her arm. My gaze followed the movement over the rise of her breasts and then below, exposing the pink tips. “I’m perfect.”
“You sure?” Doubt crept into her voice.
“I’m staring at your nipples,” I said. “So, yeah, I’m sure.”