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Chapter seventeen

Real

R ai followed Poppy back to her guest house, belly full of warm tea and something called enchiladas .

He had not consumed so much since he had been a child, and it felt strange, the heaviness in his gut.

But it was a pleasant heaviness, a sensual satiation of more than just his base needs, and even more than the flavor, he had enjoyed the company, the friendly bustling of Poppy and her mother as they prepared the food and the cheerful conversation as they had eaten.

It had been soothing. Comfortable. Real.

Though at the same time, his nerves had sparked with anticipation, because at last, at last the waiting to be with Poppy fully was over. That was to become real, too.

He had not intended to kiss Poppy when he found her.

He’d been furious, incandescent with rage and frustration as he’d flown north from her mother’s door.

Every tree he had passed, he had yearned to uproot and fling across the road.

Every car that had driven beneath him, he had wanted to pelt with hailstones the size of his fist. Yet he had held back, had instead dedicated his futile energies to calming the storm, because for all that his heart wanted to blame Poppy for risking herself, for braving the tempest without asking his aid, he knew he was at fault.

He was the one who had whipped this storm into a nightmare, one he could barely begin to soothe, and if Poppy was hurt by his foolish whimsy, he would never forgive himself.

But though he had not deserved to kiss her, kiss her he had, pouring all his tangled and frothing emotions into her, and she had fed it back to him, wild and passionate in his arms, their energies together whipping the storm into greater frenzy, beyond his control.

It had not been until he had been calmed, first by the fretful voice of Poppy’s mother reminding him of his promise, and then by Poppy’s tender confessions, that he had been able to reach into the knot of fury he had lodged in the storm’s heart and untangle it, let it go.

Except he had not let it go. He had taken that knot into himself, where it roiled within, a storm only Poppy herself could quell.

And he could not understand why.

Why had he been so overcome with rage?

He knew anger, of course. He lived on the quicksilver edge of the storm, where emotions and sensations changed moment to moment.

But anger had been fleeting for him, a storm he might ride but always controlled.

He had never been rage’s puppet, until today.

Until the thought of Poppy alone in the tempest had overtaken him.

And he had lost that control, lost the easy careless bliss that defined his existence.

Even now, he could not stop thinking about it. Thinking too much, when all he wanted was to give in to the pleasure of the moment, Poppy’s hand warm in his as she opened the door to her private space, turned to him with pink cheeks and trembling lips.

“Thank you,” she said as she led him through the door.

“For what?” Rai pushed it closed behind him.

“For Mom.” She turned and dove at him, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I know she can be a bit much.”

“No, she was very kind.” He slid his arms around her waist, pulling her closer.

Poppy flowed into his embrace. “Those are not mutually exclusive things.”

Rai was not sure what that meant, but he didn’t have to respond. Poppy’s lips were on his, and he groaned and returned the kiss.

She drew back with a giggle. “I’ve been told I can be a bit much.”

“You are,” Rai avowed, peppering her cheeks with kisses. “You are very much.”

“Too much? ”

“Never.” He took her mouth again, walking her backward toward the couch. They tumbled laughing into the cushions.

“You brought them, right?” Poppy’s lips vibrated against his.

Fuck. He’d forgotten to take the condom candidates out of his faerie hoard before arriving at Poppy’s.

Money was small and plausibly could be hidden on one’s person, but his clothing did not have pockets that could hold four condom boxes, especially not when his spectacular phone took up so much space.

Poppy would certainly notice if they appeared out of thin air; she was not a fool.

“Of course,” he said hastily, then kissed her, deep and desperate, pressing her into the cushions.

When her eyes drifted closed, he reached one hand behind her, twitching the portal open just enough to pull out the boxes, though he lost his grip and they tumbled onto the floor beside the couch.

Poppy drew back and peered over the edge of the couch. “That is…a lot of condoms.”

“I wished you to choose,” Rai said, excitement overtaking his relief that she had seen naught amiss. He reached for the closest box. “These say they are ribbed for your pleasure. I did not find them much different from the ones that say they are extra sensitive.”

Her eyebrows shot up, and she giggled. “Which kind do you like?”

He leaned out to grab them. “These are quite cheerful colors. I very much like the blue. But perhaps you would prefer the ones that are ribbed?”

She shifted on the couch beneath him, bringing her knee up to nudge at his thigh. “I think,” she said with a coy smile, “I would like the one that is on you.”

“I am not wearing one.” Rai studied her face. “Do you not know how they work? I must first be fully erect and then—”

“Oh, my god.” Poppy grabbed his tie and tugged him to her hot mouth. “I am saying I don’t care which one we use. I just want you inside me .”

Thunder welled in Rai’s belly, and he unleashed it in a kiss, drinking gasps and moans from Poppy’s lips. He grasped her thigh, dragging it over his hip. She was warm and yielding beneath him, arching into his body, her own fingers greedily yanking at the buttons of his white shirt.

“I have…a bed,” she gasped, delving her hands beneath the wrinkled cotton to caress his chest.

His inhale was fire. “Do you wish to go to the bed?”

“Not now.” She darted up to lick a stripe across his skin. “But later. If you can stay. How long can you stay? ”

Forever, Rai wanted to promise. I will stay forever. But he knew he could not, and they had agreed, so instead he bent to her neck, tasting the tender skin beneath her jaw. “I will stay as long as you wish.”

She laughed and shoved at his shirt, sliding it down his shoulders. “You may regret saying that later. I can be needy.”

“I want you to need me.” Rai pushed her shirt up to her armpits, ducking to kiss her belly. “Like the earth needs the rain to bring forth fruit and flower.” He kissed down further, falling to his knees beside the couch. “Like the bee needs the flower to create honey.”

She gasped as he stripped her leggings and her underthings down to her thighs. “Oh, god.”

He breathed in her fragrance. “Like I need you,” he growled and set his tongue to her.

She tasted of rich musk, nectar and spice, and she quivered beneath him, her hands delving into his hair, her words dissolving into guttural moans.

She was already so wet, so ready for him, and he reveled in the way each lap and nibble set her flowing anew.

He watched her face as he feasted over the landscape of her trembling stomach, her heaving breasts, the bunched-up fabric of her shirt.

Her eyes were wide with wonder, and her voice was deep music, she was singing the sweetest song for him, and when she quaked with release he nearly spent himself at the heady explosion of taste and scent and sound.

And then Poppy’s hands were on him again, dragging him back onto the couch. “Why are you perfect?” she moaned, ripping her own shirt over her head.

“I do not know.”

She laughed brokenly. “More importantly,” she said, fumbling at his belt buckle, “why are you not naked yet?”

“Because—” Rai began, but then she had his trousers open and her hand was inside, curling around his cock, and he rocked his head back against the couch, panting. “Because…” he tried again.

“You don’t need to answer,” Poppy said, sliding onto his lap. “Just get naked.”

It took some fumbling, Poppy wriggling out of her shoes and leggings while Rai shoved at his irritating trousers, but it seemed bare moments before he was lying on his back and Poppy was sitting naked over him, her knees on either side of his hips.

She dangled one of the condom packages playfully before his eyes.

The tie was still around his throat, though loose, and his cock stood proudly between them, weeping with desire.

“Which one did you choose?” he growled, pushing up to kiss her bare breasts .

“I don’t know,” she said, ripping the package open. “Whichever one was closest.”

Her fingers deftly spread the condom along his length—it was not blue, that was all he managed to notice—and she lifted herself over him and their hands together positioned him at her opening, and ah!

he was inside her, her slick heat taking him in, and he let out a cry and thrust into her, clutching at her hips.

“I am sorry!” he gasped out in sudden realization. “I am… I have promised not to be loud.”

She laughed and gave her hips a roll that made him grit his teeth to hold back another yell. “God, you’re sweet. You’re—” She arched back when Rai drove up again. “You can…be loud.”

Rai sat up halfway, wrapping his arms around her, pulling her hard against him as they fell into a pulsating rhythm. “And you?” he rumbled, kissing her shoulders, her breasts. The storm was back, tangled in his belly, but it was not fury now, not rage, just need and hunger and passion.

Her eyes were wide, mouth gasping, breath hot. “I… I can…”

“Be loud,” he demanded, thrusting harder, deeper, drunk on her desire. “I want your cries of pleasure to bring me to ruin.”