He gripped my waist, lifting me and settling me again so my knees fell to either side of his hips with me pressed against him. His breeches and my gown served as no real barrier. I could feel him, and I shuddered as a sharp, pulsing ache throbbed through me. His answering moan, another deep, rough sound, shattered whatever hesitancy I had. I placed my hands on his chest, marveling at the way his body jerked as I slid them up over his shoulders and then around his neck. I did then what I wished I’d done at the Red Pearl. I sank my fingers into his hair, and the strands were as soft as I’d thought they would be. No other part of him felt that way. He was all hard heat against me.
Hawke’s arms moved around me, pulling me so tightly against him that there was barely any space between us. He kissed me again, kept kissing me, and I knew this was more than a kiss. It went beyond that, beyond how he felt and how he made me feel.
His words had touched the deepest part of me, and it was thrilling. I felt alive, like I was finally waking up.
And I never wanted it to stop.
Not with the rush of sensations flowing through me. I knew in the back of my mind that I’d lost control of my gift. My shields were wide open, and there was no way to tell if what I felt belonged to him or me or both of us.
Instinct took over, guiding my body—my hips to push and roll—and he shuddered again, catching my bottom lip between his. He grabbed fistfuls of the skirt of my gown, lifting until his hands touched my calves. A tremor went through me like lightning.
“Remember,” he said against my lips as his palms glided up to the curve of my knees. “Anything you don’t like, say the word, and I’ll stop.”
I nodded, seeking his mouth in the darkness. When I found him, I wondered how I’d made it this long without kissing him again.
I wondered how I could go on without doing it more.
That thought threatened to dampen the heat, but his hands were moving again, skimming over my skin and sending a rush of heated blood to every part of my body. I shifted forward until our hips were melded together. I moved. We moved. And I thought I whispered his name before I kissed him again, slipping my tongue between his lips, against his teeth—
Hawke jerked his head back, panting as he rested his forehead against mine. “Poppy,” he said in a way that made my name sound like both a prayer and a curse.
“Yes?” My fingers opened and closed around the silky softness of his hair.
“That was the fifth time I’ve said your name, in case you’re still keeping track.”
I grinned. “I am.”
“Good.” He slipped his hands out from under my gown, and one of them found its way to my cheek. He traced the edge of my mask, surprising me yet again with his sight. “I don’t think I was being honest a few moments ago.”
“About what?” I loosened my grip on his hair, lowering my hands to his shoulders.
“About stopping,” he admitted quietly, drawing his fingers down my cheek and over my jaw. “I would stop, but I don’t think you would stop me.”
“I’m not exactly understanding what you’re saying.” I let my eyes close. Despite being confused by his words and the fact that we weren’t kissing, I liked the intimacy of how close we were, how his head rested against mine.
He drew the tips of his fingers down the side of my neck. “Do you want me to be blunt?”
“I always want you to be honest.”
My senses were still open. I knew that because I felt a foreign sensation coming through the connection, but it was too brief for me to figure out what it was.
And then he kissed my temple, and I thought about the odd, ashy feeling that had coated my throat. “I was seconds from taking you to the ground and becoming a very, very bad guard.”
Air caught in my throat as a pulse of warm heat went straight through me. I didn’t know a lot, but I knew enough to know what he meant. “Really?”
“Really,” he answered seriously.
I should’ve felt relief that he’d stopped, and I did. But I also didn’t. What I felt was a confusing mess. But I knew one thing for sure.
“I don’t think I would’ve stopped you,” I whispered. I would’ve let him take me to the ground, and I would’ve welcomed what he did, consequences be damned.
Hawke’s body shook as he moaned. “You’re not helping.”
“I’m a bad Maiden.”
“No.” He kissed my other temple. “You’re a perfectly normal girl. What is expected of you is what’s bad.” He paused. “And, yes, you’re also a very bad Maiden.”