The War of Two Queens (Blood and Ash 4)

My hand left Kieran’s then, and I curled my arm around her waist, resting my hand on one hip. She gave a little jolt at the touch and then her leg curled under the blanket, pressing against mine as I drew my other hand up and down her back.

I watched her—the thick fringe of lashes fanning her cheeks, the way her throat worked on each swallow as I moved my fingers across her hip in slow, steady circles. I didn’t take my eyes off her. I saw the moment the shadows under her eyes cleared. I inhaled, breathing in a familiar scent. The corners of my lips tipped up as I bent, kissing the top of her head and then her temple.

Those sharp, little nails dug into my flesh as a pink flush seeped across her cheeks. Her eyes flew open, narrowing on Kieran. The bastard was grinning, looking way too proud of himself, and I had a feeling she had stumbled into his memories, and he was showing her something she likely found highly inappropriate.

And intriguing.

Because that scent increased, joining another, and my blood thickened in response. Poppy gave a restless wiggle, causing her hip to brush against my entirely intrigued cock. I squeezed her hip, pulling her tighter to me.

Poppy swallowed one last time and then lifted her mouth. “Thank you,” she whispered, folding both her hands around Kieran’s forearm, just below my bite. A silvery glow radiated from her hands, and it didn’t matter how many times I saw her do this. It was fucking awe-inspiring. The two puncture wounds faded within a few heartbeats. She let go of his arm. “You’re still a jerk, though.”

Kieran’s laugh crinkled the skin at the corners of his eyes. “You take enough?”

Poppy reclined against my chest. “Yes.”

“Good.” He looked at me with bright eyes—eyes that pulsed with eather behind the pupils—as he clasped the back of Poppy’s head and bent, kissing her forehead. He rose from the bed. “I’ll be waiting.”

The moment the door closed behind Kieran, I clasped her cheeks and turned her gaze to me. The pink flush in her skin had deepened.

“My Queen?”

The tip of her tongue wet her lips. “Yes?”

“I need you on my cock.” Dipping my head, my tongue traced the flick of hers. “Now.”

Poppy shuddered.

I slid my hands down her sides, lifting her hips and drawing her onto her knees. Her mouth found mine, and her kiss—fuck, it tasted of sweetness and something warm. Earthy. Her hands went to my shoulders, to the hair on the nape of my neck. We had a lot of important shit to talk about and get done, but I needed the same as she did. To be inside her. I reached for the buttons on my breeches, barely managing to unhook them without ripping them off. I gripped myself as I curled my arm around her waist, pulling her down.

The first touch of her, hot and slick, nearly undid me. As did the breathy sound she made against my lips as I drew her down until no space remained between us. Nothing. I threaded my fingers through her hair as I slid my hand under the hem of her shirt, cupping her ass.

“As I said before…” I rocked her against me. “You’re my favorite kind of torture.”

She moaned, trembling. “You’re just my favorite.” Her breath caught as I squeezed her ass, grinding her down on my dick. “You’re my favorite everything.”

I nipped at her lower lip. “I know.”

“Arrogant.”

“Just telling the truth.” I took her mouth with mine, drawing in the unique flavor of her kiss. “I can taste his blood on your tongue.”

Her hips gave a delicious little jerk, but she started to pull back. I stopped her. “It’s not a bad thing,” I told her, keeping her hips moving, working. “What does his blood taste like to you?”

“You didn’t…taste it?” Her words came out in short pants.

“Tasted earthy to me.”

“It…his blood tastes like a fall morning,” she said.

“I’m a little envious of that.” I slid my hand over the soft flesh of her ass, slipping a finger between the cheeks and into the tight flesh there. Her entire body stiffened as she sucked in a sharp breath. “Does that hurt?”

“No,” she whispered, her chest rising and falling rapidly against mine. “It just feels different.”

“But good?” I watched her closely, searching for any hint of discomfort as I remained still beneath her.

Poppy bit down on her lip. “Yes.”

I smiled at her and then started moving her hips again. “You read about something like this in Miss Willa’s diary?”

Her face was even pinker. “Maybe.”

I chuckled roughly, taking the lip she’d bitten with mine. The hands at my shoulders trembled. “Were you curious about it when you read it? I bet you were.”

“Maybe a little,” she said.

“Gods.” I nipped her neck, avoiding the nearly healed bite marks. “I love that fucking book.”