“No.” It wasn’t entirely a lie. I only remembered the…gold bars.
“You’ve always recalled them before,” he said as I toyed with the buckle. “What is different—what are you doing?”
Having unbuckled the harness, I felt the weight of the sword shift. “Nothing.”
He took another drink as my fingers moved to the other buckle. “Doesn’t seem like nothing, my Queen.”
Unhooking the second sword, I placed my hands on his chest and ran them under the now-loosened straps. With the shirt like a second skin, I felt how his muscles tensed. “You know, I don’t really mind the shirt. You look good in it.”
“Of course, I do.”
“Arrogant.”
Cas winked. It was still a little infuriating how sexy he looked doing it while I appeared as if I had a twitch if I tried.
I dipped my head and kissed him. I tasted the woodsy flavor of the whiskey on his lips. Nipping at his lower lip, I wiggled closer, seating myself more fully in his lap. He hissed when I pressed down. His lips parted, and he swallowed the gasp that slipped free when I felt the hard length of his cock right against where I wanted him. The kiss deepened, and I felt his heart rate picking up, its beat mirroring mine. His hands landed on my hips—both of them. I had no idea where his glass had gone.
“Poppy—”
I kissed him again, silencing him as I leaned in. The contact of my breasts against his chest, even with layers of clothing between us, caused my nipples to tighten to almost-painful points. He kissed me as a raw, needy sound escaped from the depths of his being, eliciting a fine shiver from me.
Heady heat flooded my veins and between my thighs. Gods, I wanted him. And that need emboldened me. I reached between us, my palm slipping over the hard ridge. I felt him spasm inside his soft leather breeches and practically melted.
“Fuck,” Casteel groaned, his hips rising. “Poppy.” One of his hands closed around mine, and my stomach curled low and tight at the thought of him guiding my hand over his length. The pang of desire was so intense that my breath stuttered and—
Casteel pulled my hand away. “That’s not why we’re sitting here.”
My eyes popped open in surprise. Stunned, I watched as he lifted my hand and brought it to his lips.
He kissed my imprint.
I tried to speak, but my throat constricted and nothing came out. Was he…rejecting me?
“I want you to talk to me, Poppy.” His eyes met mine.
Stiffening, my fingers curled around nothing. “But that’s not what I want.”
“It’s what you need.”
“No.” My gaze dropped to his lap. “That’swhat I need.”
“Poppy,” he grunted, his chest rising sharply. “You’ve been through a lot of shit in a short period of time. You killed your mother.”
“I’m fine with that.”
“Then you fell into stasis, where a psychotic Primal god was able to get into your head,” he continued. “You woke up to learn that you’d been under his influence, then were pulled to another realm, only to witness its destruction.”
“Haven’t forgotten that,” I said.
His eyes narrowed slightly. “You fought an Ancient. Without me,” he tacked on with a low growl. “That alone is a lot to deal with.”
“Are you done listing things I remember?”
“No.”
“Great,” I muttered.
“Then there was Stonehill. Then Tawny. Then Lowertown,” he went on. “And now, all of this.”
