The Crown of Gilded Bones (Blood and..

“I think these straps are very important and extremely
distracting, but they’re not what we need to discuss,” he
replied. “Sit, Poppy. I know you’re exhausted.”
I glanced down at my dusty pants. “I’ll dirty the bed if I
sit.”
“Then you’ll have to take the pants off.”
My brows lifted. “Are you trying to get me naked?”
“Poppy,” he purred, brushing several strands of hair
over my shoulder. “When am I not trying to get you naked?”
I laughed softly. “Good point.” I reached for the flap of
the breeches, knowing he was teasing and enjoying it—and
relieved that I could still enjoy it despite everything that had
happened. I undid the buttons.
“Boots,” he reminded me. “Here. Hold onto my
shoulders.”
Casteel knelt before me, and the sight of him—the
breadth of his shoulders, the hair that had dried in a mess of
waves and loose curls, toppling over his forehead, and the
thick fringe of dark lashes nearly undid me. He was
beautiful. He was brave. He was intelligent. He was kind and
accepting. He was ferocious.
And he was mine.
Hands trembling slightly, I placed them on his
shoulders. He made quick work of tugging off the boots as I
steadied myself. The pants came next, and then I was
standing before him in nothing but a slip that reached my
thighs.
Casteel remained where he was, his gaze traveling over
the length of my legs. His stare lingered, not on the old
scars from the night of the Craven attack, but rather on the
dull blue patches of skin, bruised now from the gods only
knew what. His gaze roamed over me—my arms, the skin
above my breasts, my face.
His eyes were like iced-over chips of amber when they
met mine. “If any of those who inflicted one second of pain
on you still breathed, I would tear them apart, limb from