He did as she asked, falling back against the mattress, and was instantly driven mad.
Her tongue lapped up his length again and around the head. His hips rose up of their own volition. He was like a puppet, her hands, her mouth making him act on her demand.
She licked him again, then slowly brought his length into her mouth. Her movements took on a new speed, a new intensity. She sucked and licked and swirled her amazing little tongue until he felt ready to burst.
He groaned, the sound broken, raspy. She hummed in response, the sound vibrating all around his cock. He groaned again, one of his hands knotting in her hair, the other in the bedding at his side.
In tune with his reactions, Poppy began to bob her head, faster and faster, her mouth making love to him.
His release hit him, ripping through his entire body, tensing his muscles to the point of pain. Then nothing but bliss, total, mind-blowing ecstasy.
Poppy stayed with him, riding out the entirety of his orgasm, only moving when he tugged her up to lie by his side, half on the bed, half on him.
“That,” he managed to mumble between gasps, “was amazing.”
She grinned, clearly quite pleased with his reaction and with herself. He caught the back of her head with his hand, pulling her in for a kiss. He could taste the saltiness of himself on her lips.
That possessiveness he so often felt around her returned, stronger than ever. She nestled in against his side, idly circling a fingertip around his nipple.
“I thought that was just a dream. At first,” he told her.
Poppy angled her head to smile at him, then returned her attention to her swirling finger.
“I’ve had dreams about you,” she said after a moment. Her voice was quiet, maybe even a little shy.
“Have you?”
Her head nodded against his chest. “A couple, actually. And last night, I had the strangest one.”
He watched her expression, intent. “Tell me.”
She shook her head. “It was silly. But I have had other ones too. Sexy ones.”
She told him about those, dreams he already knew, because he’d had them too. Shared dreams.
“I’ve had the same exact dreams,” he said suddenly, knowing he shouldn’t admit it, but needing to tell her. Compelled to tell her.
She raised her head again. “The same? Exactly?”
He nodded.
“How can that be?”
He shook his head, even as he answered her silently:
He kissed her. They kissed for minutes, hours, he didn’t know. He was just lost in her, in every facet of her being. Gradually their kisses fueled a deeper exchange, but this time their lovemaking was unhurried, sweet and slow. Hands touching each other in gentle, exploring brushes. Small kisses scattered over each other’s bodies.
Until finally, he pressed her back against the mattress, slowly entering her. A small gasp escaped her as he filled her completely, then just remained deep inside her. Feeling every nuance of her body under his.
Then eyes still locked, he began to move. Their fingers linked above her head, and he loved her with his whole body, never breaking their gaze.
And when both their climaxes finally came, they still remained totally in tune with each other. The moment was more sensual, more powerful than anything Killian had ever experienced.
Poppy’s hand came up and touched his cheek, the caress sweet, loving. Her dark eyes searched his.
“I had another dream—one in which I told you I loved you. I
She smiled at him when they parted. Then she moved to curl against him, her back to his chest. He held her close, the thrill of her words warring with pain.
She loved him.
They stayed like that until the sun was starting to rise in the sky and her breathing was even again.
Then carefully, he eased himself out of bed. As silently as possible, he dressed. He leaned over and kissed her. Tiny kisses on her eyelids, her nose, her lips.
Then he stood, backing away from the bed, and he said the words that he knew he couldn’t deny any longer. The words that would damn him.
“I love you too.”
Almost instantly the room spun, Poppy disappearing from his view as he was sucked away in a swirl of pitch black and blood red.
CHAPTER 36
Poppy stretched, then opened her eyes, expecting to see Killian’s sleeping face on the pillow next to her. Instead, she was greeted by an empty bed and a flood of confusing, frightening memories.
She pushed herself upright, still wanting to find him, despite what she thought she knew.
“Killian,” she called. The apartment was silent. “Killian.”
She got out of bed, pulling on just her panties and a T-shirt that had been flung on the back of her bedroom chair. She padded into the living room. The apartment was still and empty feeling.
“Killian?”
Almost instantly she knew he was gone.
She went back to the bedroom, realizing all traces of him had disappeared as if he’d never existed. Had he?
She walked back to the living room, then to the kitchen. No signs. Maybe she’d imagined him. Her—demon lover.
She walked back to the bedroom and dropped on the edge of the bed.
Yes, he was gone.
By afternoon, Poppy realized she couldn’t just accept that Killian, whatever he was, hadn’t been real. God knew the heartbreak she was feeling sure felt real. Painfully real.
And maybe what she thought she’d remembered wasn’t accurate. She had no memory of getting home, or anything after her brief talk with Adam. Maybe she wasn’t remembering the rest of the night accurately either.
So she went to the one place she could think of to find Killain. With resolve, she knocked on the door. Then waited. And waited.
Again her determination flagged. But she knocked again.
Another few moments, then the doorknob wiggled. Poppy pulled in a calming breath.
“Poppy.”
Poppy deflated. “Ginger. I—I’m sorry to wake you.”
The other woman pushed sleep-tousled hair away from her face and fought back a yawn.
“That’s okay.” She frowned, her eyes going from drowsy to concerned. “You didn’t hear something from the girls, did you? Is everything okay?”
“No,” Poppy said quickly. “No, nothing like that. I was actually looking for Killian. Is he here?”
Ginger’s frown deepened. “Killian?”
“Yes. Your cousin.”
Her neighbor stared at her for a moment, concern returning. “I don’t have a cousin named Killian.”
Poppy’s stomach dropped, a horrible sick feeling rushing through her. “Umm—are you sure? Tall, very handsome, from Sweden?”
Ginger smiled. “Well, he sounds like a good cousin to have, but he isn’t my cousin.”
Poppy looked around, suddenly not sure what to do or say. Killian wasn’t Ginger’s cousin.
“Are you okay?” Ginger asked, her smile dissolving into a worried motherly look.
“Yes—yes.” Poppy attempted to gather herself. “I—I guess I misunderstood. I’m sorry to have bothered
