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I would show her she had no reason to worry.

Drawing my mouth over the healed wounds, I pressed a kiss to them, paying them the respect they were due. Her breath caught, and I went even lower, below her navel. I hooked a hand around her thigh, spreading her to fit the width of my shoulders. My mouth inches from the damp curls, I looked up at her.

“Hawke,” she whispered.

I grinned. “Remember that first page of Miss Willa’s diary?”

“Yes.”

Holding her gaze, I kissed between her thighs. Poppy’s back bowed. I didn’t look away. Neither did she, but my heart pounded as I drew my tongue over her, sampling her, and gods, she tasted so damn good. So fucking sweet. I dipped my tongue into her heat, muscles throughout my body clenching with want. I shifted my head, flicking my mouth over the taut bundle of nerves.

Poppy’s hips rose, drawing a rumble of approval from me. I watched as I drew her clit into my mouth. Her head fell back as she writhed.

Fucking gods, I could come just from the taste of her, the sight of her breasts rising and falling rapidly, the jut of that stubborn chin, and the way she so sweetly gave herself over to the wildness building in her.

And I could feel it, the tremor in her legs, the quiver in her breath. I feasted on her, licking and sucking until I was drowning in her scent. Until I knew I could survive on her taste.

“Oh, gods,” she gasped, fingers digging into the sheet. Her legs straightened. “Oh, gods, Hawke—” She cried out, her body jerking and trembling as she came. Her spine flattened against the mattress as her unfocused gaze met mine.

I took one last taste of her, then lifted my head. As she watched, I drew my tongue over my lower lip.

“Honeydew,” I groaned. “Just like I said.”

Poppy shook, and I smiled.

The ache in my cock and jaw intensified as I prowled up the length of her body, clasping the nape of her neck. She watched me with those hooded emerald eyes and shivered as my thighs brushed hers. My godsdamn arms trembled when I positioned myself above her once more. Her eyes closed.

“Poppy,” I whispered, the desire for her becoming primal. I kissed her, letting her taste herself on my lips as my cock pressed against the hot dampness. My heart raced as I stared down at her. “Open your eyes.”

She did as I asked. “What?”

“I want your eyes open,” I said.

“Why?”

I laughed. “Always so many questions.”

She let out a soft little gasp. “I think you would be disappointed if I didn’t have any.”

“True.” I slid my hand from her neck to her breast.

“So, why?” she asked.

“Because I want you to touch me,” I said. “I want you to see what you do to me when you touch me.”

She shivered. “How…how do you want me to touch you?”

The way she asked that… It fucking killed me. “Any way you want, Princess. You can’t do it wrong.”

Slowly, she let go of the sheet. I watched her as she brought her hand to my cheek. Her touch was so gentle. She trailed her fingertips along my jaw, then my lips, and I felt that caress in every part of my body.

Then she explored as I had, gliding her hand down my chest, drawing a quick, deep breath from me. She continued between us, tracing the muscles of my lower stomach. When she reached the line of coarse hair below my navel, I might’ve stopped breathing. I sure as fuck didn’t move, other than to make lazy little circles around her nipple with my thumb. Not until the tips of her fingers brushed my cock.

My entire body jerked. “Please. Don’t stop,” I begged when she halted. “Dear gods, do not stop.”

Poppy did as I pleaded, her gaze locked onto me as she drew her fingers along the base of my cock. My lips parted as she followed the vein, stopping midway to curl her fingers around me. My head kicked back. I trembled as exquisite pleasure rippled through me. Her grip loosened, and my breathing picked up as she slid her hand to the tip. My entire body shuddered as her hold tightened once more.

“Gods,” I growled.

“Is this okay?”

“Anything you do is more than okay.” I groaned as she dragged her palm against my cock. “But especially that. Totally that.”

Poppy laughed and then did it again. My hips followed her movement, need rumbling from my chest.

“You see what your touch does to me?” I asked, pumping against her palm.

“Yes,” she whispered.

“It kills me.” I lowered my head, soaking in how she looked up at me. I’d never felt such anticipation, such pleasure. “It kills me in a way I don’t think you’ll ever understand.”

Her gaze searched mine. “In a…in a good way?”