And then he was no longer just palming me. He was touching me, rubbing two of his fingers over the seam of the pants, over the very center of me. A rush of damp heat flooded me. My gaze dropped, and I almost expected to see what he was doing under the blanket.
I saw nothing in the darkness.
But I felt everything.
How did we get here? I couldn’t quite figure it out, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to. I’d had a taste before of what I was feeling now, and just a tease seemed so unfair. And wasn’t that what living meant? Taking more than a sip here and small bite there. It was all about gulping and swallowing as much as you could.
I wanted to feel as much as I could, especially after feeling nothing but pain and anger for so long. I felt none of that now.
I would be in the capital soon, and it was quite possible that my Ascension would happen sooner than expected. And if I came back from it, I knew beyond a doubt that whoever I ended up with wouldn’t make me feel half of what Hawke always seemed to elicit from me, whether it be irritation and anger, laughter and amusement, or this—this consuming, rippling wave of acute pleasure.
His fingers toyed with the stitching, pushing in just hard enough that I felt the touch all the way to the tips of my toes. Every part of my body became hyperaware.
How did he think this was going to help me sleep?
I was wide-awake now, pulse pounding and heart crashing, and he was touching, rubbing me in a way that caused my hips to twitch.
He dragged his hand up the front of the breeches. His palm brushed along the bare flesh of my lower stomach. Those long fingers settled over a throbbing point and moved in slow, steady circles. “I bet you’re soft and wet and ready.” His voice was a lush growl in my ear. “Should I find out?”
I shuddered, half afraid that he would.
Partly scared that he wouldn’t.
The friction of his fingers, the rough material against my flesh…and his words… Oh, gods, they were decadent, purely sinful, and I never wanted it to end.
“Would you like that?” he asked, and my hips rolled instinctively, seeking his touch. He made that sound again, that rumble of approval that was so raw and primitive. “I would do more than this.”
Eyes open only a slit, I watched the not-too-distant shape of one of the guards slowly patrolling the north-facing side of the camp, my skin and body flaming with forbidden heat as my hips moved again. This time, it wasn’t only a reaction I couldn’t control. I moved them purposefully, rocking them against that slow, steady circling of his fingers. I reveled in the spike of aching, biting pleasure that followed.
I shouldn’t allow this. Not even in the privacy of a room, and surely not where someone could just turn around. I imagined if they paid close enough attention, they’d know that something was happening. I was almost positive that the guard closest to us, the one I watched even now, was Kieran. He seemed as alert as Hawke.
This was wrong.
But how could it…how could it feel so right, then? So good? I was becoming a being of liquid, pulsing fire, all due to just two long, graceful fingers.
“You feel what I’m doing, Poppy?”
I nodded.
“Imagine what my fingers would feel like with nothing between them and your skin.”
I shuddered.
“I would do this.” His fingers pressed in, a little harder, a little rougher, and my legs jerked. “I would get inside of you, Poppy. I would taste you. I bet you’re as sweet as honeydew.”
Oh, gods…
I bit down on my lip as my grip eased off the blanket. I reached down, placing my hand over his forearm. He stopped. He waited. Wordlessly, I lifted my hips to his hand as my fingers dug into his skin. The ache was becoming unbearable.
“Yes,” he breathed. “You would like that, wouldn’t you?”
“Yes,” I whispered, forcing the word out past my lips.
His fingers started moving again, and I almost cried out. “I would work in another finger. You’d be tight, but you’re also ready for more.”
My breath was coming out in quick, shallow pants as I felt the tendons in his arm flex under my hand, as my hips moved in the same circles he was making against me.
“I would thrust my fingers in and out.” His lips brushed the skin just below my ear. “You’d ride them just like you’re riding my hand right now.”
That’s what I was doing, shamelessly so. Clutching his arm, I rocked against his hand, chasing that unbelievable tension that kept building and tightening.
“But we won’t do that tonight. We can’t. Because if I get any part of me in you, every part of me would be in you, and I want to hear every sound you make when that happens.”