“I have,” I cut her off, because holy fuck, I had heard her right, and that shouldn’t have even crossed her mind. But because of bastards like the Duke, it did. Gods, I wanted to murder the fucker all over again. “And I think you already know what I think. I said it in front of you, in front of the Duke, and I told you outside the Great Hall—”
“I know what you said, and I’m not bringing up what I look like for you to shower me with compliments. It’s just…” She shook her head. “Never mind. Forget I said that.”
“I can’t. I won’t.”
“Great.”
“You’re just used to assholes like the Duke.” I snarled his title. “He may be an Ascended, but he’s worthless.”
She stiffened. “You shouldn’t say things like that, Hawke. You—”
“I’m not afraid to speak the truth. He may be powerful, but he’s just a weak man.” And a dead one. “Who proves his strength by attempting to humiliate those more powerful than he is. Someone like you, with your strength? It makes him feel incompetent—which he is. And your scars? They are a testament to your fortitude. They are proof of what you survived. They are evidence of why you are here when so many twice your age wouldn’t be. They’re not ugly. Far from it. They’re beautiful, Poppy.”
The tension eased from her as she whispered, “That’s the third time you’ve called me that.”
“Fourth,” I corrected. “We’re friends, aren’t we? Only your friends and your brother call you that, and you may be the Maiden, and I’m a Royal Guard, but all things considered, I would hope that you and I are friends.”
“We are.”
I should feel like shit for that—for becoming what I needed to be. Her friend. Gaining her trust. That festering guilt spread. My gaze flicked to the willow’s swaying limbs. I didn’t need to take it this far. I knew that. Fuck, I knew that in the Atheneum when I didn’t kiss her. I had what I needed. The rest would be history.
I sighed, palming her cheek. “And I’m not…I’m not being a good friend or guard right now. I’m not…” I moved my hand beneath the heavy fall of her hair and curled my fingers there, holding her close to me. Just for a few more moments because I liked the way she felt in my arms, and I figured that after tonight, the only time I’d be holding her this close would be to stop her from punching me. “I really should get you back to your room. It’s getting late.”
Her exhale was ragged. “It is.”
Fighting the desire to do the exact opposite, I started to lift her from my lap—
“Hawke?” she whispered. “Kiss me. Please.”
Shock held me still, but my damn heart punched at my ribs as I stared at her. I knew what I should do. There was a past. There was a future outside this willow. I needed to do what I had done last night. There was no need for this.
Except she’d asked me to kiss her.
And I wanted this.
Fuck good intentions and the sliver of me that was a decent man.
“Gods,” I rasped, sliding my hand back to her cheek. I would surely pay for this later, but right now, no price seemed too steep. “You don’t have to ask me twice, Princess, and you never have to beg.”
Closing the distance between us, I brushed my lips over hers. It wasn’t a kiss. Not at all. But she gasped against my mouth so damn sweetly that I smiled. And I slowed without much conscious thought. Not because I thought she couldn’t handle it. I knew she could. Whether I could handle it was debatable at the moment, but I also wanted her to enjoy this. I wanted her to feel as much as she could.
I wanted her to have more experiences.
She could have that, no matter how this all turned out. She would.
I moved my mouth over hers as I shifted my hand so my thumb reached the pulse at her throat. It beat a wild tempo. So did mine as she fisted the front of my tunic. She tugged on the fabric. I wasn’t sure she was even aware of the demand, but I was.
She wanted more.
I could give her more.
Tilting my head, I deepened the kiss, drawing her plump lips into mine, and she liked that, pressing into me more. When the kiss ended, I drew back just enough to see her swollen, glistening lips. I really liked how that looked on her. A lot.
Poppy moved toward me a second before I could reclaim her lips—and fuck, I liked that even more. Her eagerness set fire to my blood. As I drew my hands down her shoulders, I had to be careful that she didn’t feel my sharp canines, but there was no teasing now. She shuddered, returning the kiss with an inexperienced passion that surpassed any kisses that’d come before. A growl of approval rumbled up from my chest and danced against her lips. I nipped at her lower one, grinning at the way her breath caught. Her fingers dug into the tunic, her hold almost desperate as she squirmed in my embrace, and I knew what that meant, too.
She wanted more.
And I was more than willing to give it to her.
Gripping her by the waist, I lifted her and brought her down so her legs opened and slid to my hips. I tugged her against me, her softness against my hardness. And I knew she could feel me. The scent of her arousal spilled into the air around us. Her hips jerked, causing the sweetness between her thighs to drag along the ridge of my cock. I moaned at the friction.
And Poppy…
She showed me just how much she liked the feeling of me against her. She gripped my hair as her mouth moved against mine. My arms tightened around her as I sipped from her lips. The fingers in my hair clenched, and fuck, her hips moved. She rolled them out of pure, raw instinct, pressing her softness against my cock. I caught her lower lip again. She gave a breathy little whimper as her movements rewarded her with pleasure. Gods, she was hungry.
And I was willing to let her devour me.
Moving my arms, I grabbed her skirts, lifting just enough to get my hands under them. My palms hit her bare calves, and she trembled.
“Remember,” I reminded her as I slid my grip up the sides of her legs. “Anything you don’t like, say the word, and I’ll stop.”
Poppy nodded, finding my mouth in the darkness. My hands skimmed up as we kissed. She shifted closer, pressing down on me. Needing more. Wanting more. She was greedy.
Good thing I was, too.
A bolt of pure desire pounded through me as she arched into me. My fingers pressed into the flesh of her thighs as I rocked my hips up. She shook, grinding down on me, and fuck, it was the most exquisite torture there was. I gripped her legs, dragging her just a bit to the right, where she was fully pressed against my hard length.
“Hawke,” she moaned against my mouth, squirming against me and then moving back and forth. And, gods, I helped her find that pace.
Poppy rode me through my breeches and whatever flimsy undergarment she wore, the heat I felt between her thighs as addictive as her kisses. Her knees clenched my hips, and fuck, I wanted to take her to the ground and lose myself in her. Lose everything in what I knew was her slick heat. My arms trembled. I shuddered with want. The image of her beneath me, her bodice tugged down, baring those dark nipples I’d seen through her nightgown, and the skirt bunched to her hips was so real that I started to draw my hands there. To lift her once more, to do just what I imagined because that sliver of decent man was even thinner now—