The Crown of Gilded Bones (Blood and Ash 3)

The ship rocked, jostling me. My ass did lift, and Casteel seized the opportunity. He pulled off my breeches, letting them join the boots on the floor. Cool air swirled around my legs, stirring the edges of my slip.

“You’re going to have to let go of the desk.” He curled his fingers around the hem of the long-sleeved shirt.

I forced my fingers to ease, and my stomach lurched as the ship rocked again. I started to grab the desk, but he was faster, pulling the shirt up and over my head. The moment my arms were free, I grabbed hold of the desk once more.

“Pretty,” he murmured, toying with the tiny strap on the slip and then the lace of the cinched bodice. His deft fingers loosened the buttons with shocking and impressive ease. The material parted, exposing my skin to the salty night air seeping in through the cabin window. He dragged his thumb over the rosy tip of one breast, causing me to gasp. “Not as pretty as these, though.”

My heart thudded, and I wasn’t sure if it was due to the ship’s motions or the intent in his words.

He eased the straps down my arms, stopping when they fell against my wrists. Then he stretched up, reaching around to pick up my braid. He pulled the leather thong from the end and slowly began to unwind the hair.

“I’m going to make you re-braid my hair,” I told him.

“I can do that.” He spread the lengths over my shoulders, then he caught the edge of the slip, pushing it up my hips to where the material gathered at my waist. Those callused palms swept down my legs once more as he leaned back. Gripping my ankles, he spread my legs and placed my feet so they dangled off the arms of the chair. I’d never been more exposed in my life.

He dragged a finger along his lower lip as his gaze swept over me. “I’ve never seen a more tantalizing dinner. It makes me want to rush to the main course.” His gaze lingered on the shadowy area between my thighs. “But I do love a good appetizer.”

Oh…gods.

Casteel looked up at me, a secretive little grin playing across his lips as his arousal washed over me, mixing with mine. “I almost forgot. The next best thing to a good conversation while enjoying dinner is reading a good book.”

My eyes widened as he bent, reaching into the bag. “You did not—”

“Don’t move.” Casteel shot me a heated look, and I froze. He withdrew the all-too-familiar leather-bound book. Straightening, he cracked it open. “Pick a page, my Queen.”

Was he going to read to me? “I…I don’t know. 238.”

“238, it is.” He found the page and then turned the book over to me. “Read to me. Please?”

I stared at him.

“It would be so very difficult for me to enjoy my dinner and read at the same time,” he coaxed, eyes glimmering. “Or is reading this out loud too scandalous for you?”

It was, but the challenge in his tone provoked me. Letting go of the desk, I snatched the damnable book from his hand. “You really want me to read this to you?”

“You have no idea how badly I want to hear you say words like cock.” His hands settled on my knees.

I glanced at the page, quickly searching for the word and found it. Damn it. Damn him, and—I gasped as his lips skated over the scar on my inner thigh.

“You’re not reading.” He kissed the rough skin. “Or are you that distracted already?”

I sort of was, but I forced myself to focus on the first line and immediately regretted it. “‘His…his manhood was thick and proud as he stroked it, enjoying the feeling of his own hand, but not as much as—’” I jerked as his lips danced over my very center.

“Keep reading,” he ordered, his words sending a dark and hot shiver through my core.

My gaze darted back to the page. “‘But not as much as I enjoyed watching him pleasure himself. He worked himself until the tip of his…’” My entire body trembled as his hot, wet tongue slipped over me. “‘Until the tip of his proud, his… his proud cock glistened.’”

A deep sound rumbled from him, causing my toes to curl. “I’m sure there’s more.” His tongue danced over my flesh. “What does he do with that proud, glistening cock of his, Poppy?”

Pulse pounding, I scanned the page. “He…” A breathy moan left me as he pierced the flesh there. “He eventually stops stroking himself.”

“And?”

The words didn’t make any sense for a moment. “And he pleasures her with it.”

“Don’t tell me.” He nipped at the skin, dragging a ragged sound from me. “Read it to me.”

“You are…wicked,” I told him.

“And also very curious to discover how he pleasures her,” he replied. “I may learn something.”