The Crown of Gilded Bones (Blood and..

He made that rough, needy sound again. “Your body has
been through a lot, Poppy, and in a very short period of
time. You may feel fine. You might even be, but less than
two days ago, you barely had a drop of blood left in you. I’m
not going to risk feeding from you. Not today. So, one of us
needs to be the responsible party.”
A throaty laugh left me. “You’re the responsible one?”
“Obviously.” He skimmed a finger through the dampness
gathering at my center, stroking the fire already flaming to
life in my veins.
“I don’t think you know what being responsible means.”
“You might be right.” Casteel kissed me, tugging at my
lower lip. “So, you need to be the responsible one.”
“I don’t want to.”
He chuckled against my mouth and then kissed me
again, slipping his hand out from between my thighs.
“Shower,” he reminded me—or himself.
The level of disappointment I felt when he took my hand
was quite shameful, especially when he turned, and the
hard length of him brushed my thigh. Another wanton pulse
rolled through me as he led me into the stall. He stepped
into the shower and turned to me, water wetting his hair,
coursing over his shoulders, and droplets—warm droplets—
sprinkling my outstretched arm. His heated gaze was so
intense it was like a physical caress as it swept over me.
My body trembled as I stood there, letting him look his
fill. It wasn’t exactly easy. I fought the urge to shield myself
as he held onto my hand. It wasn’t that I was uncomfortable
around him or ashamed of the numerous imperfections. No
matter how much I trained with weapons and my body, my
waist would never be narrow, nor would my hips ever be
slender like the Ladies in Wait in Solis.
I liked cheese and bacon and chocolate-covered
everything too much for that.
I wasn’t embarrassed by my scars, either. Not when he
looked at me like he did now, as if I could very well be a