Chapter 13 #3
I smiled. “Yeah.”
I’d never felt such a powerful force connecting me to another person.
If that wasn’t proof enough, my dragon soul simmered contentedly right beneath the surface of my skin.
There wasn’t a single doubt in my mind that Poppy was my fated mate.
Every fiber of my being wanted him forever, in every way a person could be wanted.
“You... love me?” Poppy whispered, as if he couldn’t believe my confession. I didn’t blame him. He’d been through so much. He’d been hurt so badly. I wanted to take all the pain away from him.
I grasped his face gingerly, like I was handling a fragile baby bird.
“I love you, Poppy. Forever.”
Poppy stared at me in silence for a couple seconds before tears trickled out of his eyes. He didn’t sob or wail. Instead his mouth curled into a beaming smile. It was the happiest expression I’d ever seen on his face.
“Violet,” he said in a hushed tone. “I... I love you. I love you, too!”
A whimper woke me from my dream.
I sat upright, instantly alert. The room was pitch-black, and aside from the small sound, totally silent. It took me a second to remember where I was, what was going on.
I’d been sleeping on the floor.
Because Poppy was in my room, sleeping in my bed.
My gaze snapped to him. He was tucked beneath the covers, facing away from me, and...
Whining?
For a few beats, I didn’t move. Just listened. Was he in pain? Did he need my help?
Poppy let out a soft hiss, then grunted.
My brow furrowed in concern. I grabbed the edge of my blanket, ready to tear it off and run to the medicine cabinet in the bathroom to soothe whatever ailed him.
The covers rustled as Poppy curled in on himself.
Every little sound out of his mouth only worried me more.
I couldn’t wait any longer. I stood up and treaded quietly to the opposite side of the bed, troubled by the idea of Poppy’s suffering.
I hoped that whatever ailed him, it wasn’t too hard to fix.
Poppy’s eyes were clenched shut, and his mouth was slightly open. His cheeks were flushed and stray white hairs clung to his damp temple.
Shit. Does he have a fever?
I pressed the back of my hand against his forehead. He was warm and a bit sweaty, sure, but not feverish...
Then Poppy moaned.
The sound electrified me. It shot straight down my spine, sizzling into my core like a brand upon my guts.
I stood there with my mouth agape. Staring down at him, I tried to decipher exactly what kind of moan that was. It didn’t sound like one of pain...
Which meant—
“Violet...”
My eyes snapped wide open in shock as Poppy whimpered that soft word.
Not just any word. My name.
What kind of dream is he having? I thought as heat slowly crept across my skin.
Suddenly guilty for eavesdropping on what was clearly a private moment, I began to step back. I couldn’t stay in the room while Poppy was having that kind of dream. I’d just slip out of the room, take a walk in the cold night air to clear my head, then sneak back in later.
But as I turned to leave, Poppy grasped my wrist.
My heart raced.
I searched his face again. He was awake now. His half-lidded eyes gleamed with desire in the darkness.
Biting the inside of my cheek, I tried really damned hard to ignore the slow heat building between my thighs.
“Sorry,” I said, my voice coming out in a rasp. “Thought you were sick or something, so I was just checking on you.”
“I’m not sick,” Poppy murmured.
He looked straight up at me. Something about his decisive comment and gaze sent a shiver rippling down my body.
I cleared my throat. “Good. Uh, I gotta go to the bathroom real quick, do you want some water or—”
“I was having a dream about you.”
That stopped me dead. A lump formed in my throat. I swallowed it nervously.
“Yeah? What kinda dream?” I asked, already suspicious of the answer.
Poppy held my captured wrist closer to his body, as if cradling a precious object. When he spoke, it was quiet and fragile, the question meant only for my ears.
“Do you remember? The night you first saved me?”
I felt an uncanny sensation. Was I sharing the same dream with Poppy? How was that even possible?
“I could never forget that,” I stated.
Poppy ducked his gaze. His eyes were hidden beneath his pale lashes. “Do you remember... what came after?”
The creeping heat now rushed to my face, darkening my cheeks and ears. I knew what he meant. Not the tragedy that came the next morning, but that special night we shared together, when we thought everyone was safe.
“I’d never forget that, either,” I growled.
I saw the bittersweet creases edging around Poppy’s eyes. He must’ve shared my feelings—he contained the memory of our shared night, as if protecting it in a glass jar, focusing on it instead of the darker memories that came before and after.
Wanting to be closer to him, I sat on the edge of the bed. Poppy glanced up at me. The desire in his gaze was still there.
“Viol,” he murmured. He gripped my wrist slightly harder, enough to send a shudder up my arm. “Um...”
My heart leapt into my throat. I swallowed past its thundering pace.
“What is it?” I asked.
“Will you... lie with me?”
Poppy’s words made me dizzy. If I wasn’t sitting down, I might’ve collapsed.
“What?” I repeated, sure I’d misunderstood somehow.
He blew out a soft breath and traced his fingers lower on my wrist until they tickled my palm.
“Will you please lie in bed with me?” Poppy asked.
There was no mistaking his request this time. It was crystal-clear. There was no room for misinterpretation, and no turning him down.
My heart thudded so hard I nearly choked on it.
“Yes, I will,” I replied.
Poppy smiled, looking relieved and excited. He inched forward to make more space for me behind him.
He wants me to spoon him, I realized as my heart took off in another rapid-fire sprint.
With trembling hands, I lifted the covers and crawled beneath them.
Immediately I was greeted by the cozy, snug warmth of Poppy’s body.
I closed the space between us until my chest was flush against his back.
I couldn’t even take a breath without drawing in a lungful of Poppy’s scent.
Comfort and bliss washed over me. I was instantly intoxicated.
He’s so warm. And he smells so good...
Pressing against Poppy was like a salve that erased all my balled-up anxiety and nerves. The twisted knots in my chest unraveled and floated away.
Yet as my stress disappeared, a different tension built within me. A low, throbbing hum at the base of my spine. One that I couldn’t contain for very long in this intimate position...
“Viol,” Poppy said softly. “Will you put your arms around me?”
I clenched my eyes shut.
He’s killing me...
“Yeah. I can,” I replied.
I reached one arm around Poppy’s shoulder and tucked the other beneath his neck so they crossed against his chest. He sighed peacefully, resting his hands on my arms.
“It feels safe like this,” he murmured.
I closed my eyes, nodding. I shared that feeling, but I was too focused on preventing my arousal to chime in. I didn’t want Poppy to think I was some horny asshole who assumed cuddling in bed automatically led to something more...
Think wholesome thoughts, I ordered myself. Think about... little bunnies. Cute kittens. Shit, I don’t fucking know!
When I opened my eyes, Poppy was staring at me over his shoulder. Expectantly. Almost impatiently.
Poppy was never impatient.
“Wh-what?” I asked.
“Are you... oh, what’s that word... are you trolling me?”
My brows scrunched up in confusion. “Huh?”
Poppy blew out a frustrated breath, almost pouting. “I want to be touched. By you. Only you.”
My eyes widened as his statement washed over me.
I wasn’t imagining things. Poppy wanted this.
The heat seeping through my body rose to a low simmer. I angled my face forward so our cheeks brushed together, and we both felt the sparks from that simple touch. Poppy exhaled a small, shaky breath, while I felt it as an electric shock in my core.
I kissed his cheek. Just like in our youth, his skin was unbearably soft, as if my mouth were sinking into a cloud.
“Viol,” he murmured.
A shiver rolled down my back. My skin felt sensitive, charged; every word and touch ready to ignite me.
“I’m here, Poppy,” I promised, kissing his cheek again.
He let out a content sound and leaned into me, open and willing for whatever I had to give. My heart clenched.
How long had he wanted this? And how long had I been too stupid to see it?
I danced my hand below his collarbone, playing with the fabric of my shirt. Poppy sighed. I didn’t need to hear him speak to know he enjoyed it.
My heart raced as I cautiously raised my fingers towards the shirt collar, then dipped below it to the bare plane of Poppy’s chest. He let out another small sound as he arched against me in silent encouragement.
It all felt so good. So natural.
As I stroked Poppy’s chest, I closed my eyes and rested my face against his silky hair. Every inhale gifted me a whiff of his sweetness.
I couldn’t believe this was happening. That my long, aching dream was finally coming true...
“Viol, I missed you,” Poppy whispered.
I swallowed a growl of frustration directed at myself. It was all because of my damn foolishness. By creating barriers between us, I’d hurt Poppy again. If I’d paid closer attention...
My eyes opened as a hand suddenly grasped my face. Poppy looked sternly at me.
“You’re overthinking,” he accused. “Stop it.”
I couldn’t help but snort a laugh. He knew me too well.
“Sure, but—”
“No,” Poppy interrupted. “I already said I don’t want to hear anyone talk poorly about you. Even if it’s you.”
I blinked at him. The desire in his gaze burned alongside adoration, and a speck of irritation. That made me laugh again.
“Wh-what?” he asked, flustered.
“Nothing. I just love when you get annoyed at me,” I said through a grin. “It’s really cute.”