The War of Two Queens (Blood and Ash 4) - Page 172

The towel rasped over my back and then lower as Poppy walked around me. And then, I stopped thinking about all the calories I needed to consume.

Poppy was suddenly on her knees before me, moving the slightly rough towel down my left leg. Her head…fuck, it was right there. Inches from my dick, and there was no way I could ignore that. My throat dried. She guided the towel back up, along the inside of my leg, slowly. Up and up, she went. A tight tremor of anticipation shot through me. The back of her hand brushed my sac, and my entire body clenched.

She moved onto the other leg, her features utterly serene. Innocent. As if she had no idea what that touch had done. Bullshit. She knew. The small curve at the corner of her lips told me so as she started the slow, torturous climb back up my leg.

“Poppy,” I warned, knowing damn well that if she continued, talking would be the last thing on my mind. Hell, it was already quickly becoming that.

“Hmm?” She drew the towel along the back of my thigh.

“I’m sure you’re not unaware—” I clamped my jaw shut as her hand brushed between my legs once more.

“Unaware of what?” she asked, her breath caressing the flesh of my thigh.

“Of what you’re doing,” I said hoarsely.

Dropping the towel, she placed her hands on the sides of both of my legs and looked up at me. Well, not all the way up. Poppy’s gaze didn’t go past my rigid length. Her stare. The way her lips parted. Her flushed cheeks. None of that helped keep my thoughts on track.

“I know exactly what I’m doing,” she said, trailing her hands up the sides of my legs.

“And what exactly are you doing?”

“Showing you just how deserving you are.”

I opened my mouth, but she stretched higher and pressed her lips to the old scar just inside my hip. The brand that never quite faded.

That kiss.

It wrecked me.

And she didn’t stop there. Those soft lips trailed a path across my thigh. I was rock-hard, and she hadn’t even touched me yet. Not really. The reaction had nothing to do with the absence of sex the last several weeks. I’d gone far, far longer than that. This punch-to-the-gut kind of lust had everything to do with her.

Poppy drew back just enough for me to see the blush on her nose and cheeks as she curled her fingers around the base of my dick. Choking on her name, I almost came right there.

Fractured green-and-silver eyes met mine as she drew her hand down my length. “I love you, Cas.”

“Always?” I bit out.

“And forever.” Her voice thickened as she slid her palm along me slowly. “Because you’re worthy.”

I trembled, my hands opening and closing at my sides. A faint sheen of sweat broke out over my forehead as she moved her palm down my length again. Her strokes were slow and tentative. And her mouth…godsdamn. Her hot little pants of breath teased the head of my cock. She hadn’t even taken me in her mouth yet, but I could already feel the familiar coiling at the base of my spine, that deep tightening. “I’ll believe anything you say right now.”

Her laugh was light, teasing the head of my dick. “Believe it. Because if you weren’t?” That hand kept moving, slow and steady and hot. “I wouldn’t be on my knees before you.”

“No. You wouldn’t be,” I gasped, unable to keep my hands at my sides. I touched her cheek. Threaded my fingers through her silky hair. “It’s funny, though.”

“What is?”

“I may be the one standing, but it’s me who is still bowing to you.”

Her smile was wide, crinkling the skin at the corners of her eyes. And, gods, those smiles…they were too rare. Too exquisite.

“Deserving,” she whispered.

And then she took me into her mouth.

My shout was rough, echoing through the small chamber. Probably the whole damn building. I didn’t care. The entire world centered on the feel of her mouth, the slide of her tongue as she kept moving her hand, working me with artful perfection.

But I kept myself still. I didn’t tug on her hair. I didn’t fuck her mouth. I didn’t—

Poppy took me deep—deeper than I thought she would—and sucked. My hips jerked. My hand tightened in her hair. I nearly rose to the tips of my toes. “What godsdamn chapter in Miss Willa’s diary was that in?”

Her laugh was a hum that nearly broke me, and I could sense the rapid increase in her pulse and breath. She enjoyed this, finding pleasure in pleasuring me. And that was its own powerful aphrodisiac. My hips moved then. I couldn’t stop myself. My hand flattened on the back of her head. My head falling back, I shook. Nothing. Nothing in any realm compared to her. I was close, the tightening becoming taut. My thrusts were less shallow, less gentle.

Tags: Jennifer L. Armentrout Blood and Ash Fantasy
Source: readsnovelonline.net
readsnovelonline.net Copyright 2016 - 2024