“You know what I’ve been craving?” He captured my lips in a quick, scorching kiss as his other hand teased the aching peak of my breast. “Poppy?”

I swallowed as his hair tickled my cheek. “What?”

“Are you even listening to me?” He nipped at my throat. I shuddered as he said, “Or are you not capable of listening?”

“Totally.” My entire being focused on how his fingers curled around my nipple, how his other hand stroked lazily between my thighs. “I’m totally capable of—” I gasped, clutching his shoulders as he slipped one finger inside me. “Of…of listening.”

He chuckled against my neck as he slowly moved his finger in and out, over and over until I was breathless. “So?” Do you know what I’m craving?”

Truthfully, how quickly he distracted me utterly astonished me. Pleasure curled, stirring something deep. “What?”

“Honeydew,” he whispered against my lips, picking up the pace as he tipped his head down. “I could live on the taste of you. I swear to you.”

My pulse rocketed as his decadent oath wove its way through me. He lifted his head, working another finger inside as his eyes became bright and full of more wicked promises. He watched, soaking in every soft gasp and flutter of my eyelashes as his fingers pumped in and out, his gaze latched on to mine, refusing to allow me to look away, to escape the maddening rush of feelings he created.

Not that I ever wanted to.

A dimple appeared in his right cheek as he brushed his thumb over the sensitive part of me, his eyes alight as I sucked in a shrill breath. He began tracing an idle circle around the tightened bud, coming close to touching it but always straying away at the last moment.

“Cas,” I panted.

“I love the way you say that.” Golden flecks sparked to life, churning. “I love the way you look right now.”

“I know.” My hips moved forward, but he pressed in.

“Stay still,” he ordered gruffly. His thumb made another enticingly close circle. “I’m not finished looking at you. Do you know how beautiful you are? Have I told you that today?” he asked, and I was almost sure he had. “How stunning? With your cheeks flushed and lips swollen? Beautiful.”

How could I not feel that way when I could feel that he believed what he said. I felt like I was burning up inside, catching fire. My hands slipped down his chest. Awed by the way his heart pounded against my palm, I strained against his hold, brushing my lips against his. He leaned into me, his arousal pressing against my hip as he kissed me.

“I have to do something about that craving,” he told me, and that was the only warning I had.

Before I could protest the absence of his hand between my legs, he was kneeling. “I could spend an eternity on my knees before you,” he vowed, his eyes amber jewels.