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Poppy’s eyes fluttered open, locking with mine. She placed a hand against my cheek. “Hawke,” she whispered.

The sound of her voice caught me. I ground my molars as dual needs roared through me. My hand pressed into the space beside her head more, and I fought back the desire to sink my fangs into her as deeply as my cock and give in to my other desire.

My arm around her shoulders tightened, and then I fucked her. I took her hard—harder than I probably should’ve—driving our bodies across the bed. She felt too damn good, too damn perfect, and I’d wanted her from the first moment my lips touched hers. The tension spiraled. Release powered down my spine. I thrust into her once, sealing our bodies together as I came in waves of pleasure. I got a little lost in them, and the instinct I’d been fighting took over. I bowed my head, pressing in beneath her chin, forcing hers back. I found her pulse with my mouth as my hips churned against hers. My lips peeled back. My fangs grazed her skin. Poppy shivered, and a smile tugged at the corners of my mouth. I was poised, ready to strike—

Fuck.

I clamped my mouth shut, swallowing a groan as I pressed my chest against hers. My heart thundered as I fought back the hunger. It had been weeks since I’d fed, but I didn’t need to. I could go much longer. The desire for her blood had nothing to do with that. It had everything to do with her, and never in my life had I experienced that kind of need with a mortal.

I had no idea how long it took for that to happen, for me to trust myself with her. I slowly became aware of her fingers sifting through my hair, but I remained as I was, still joined with her. I didn’t think I had a choice. The nearly all-consuming need to take her blood rattled me, not to mention the feeling of completion without even feeding from her. I’d never felt this before. Never. I didn’t know what it meant. Or maybe I did because I knew this was real. What was between us. What she felt for me. What I felt for her. This. It was real.

A rough breath left me, and I shifted my weight to my elbows. I turned my head, finding her mouth. I kissed her. “Don’t forget this.”

She splayed her fingers across my jaw. “I don’t think I ever could.”

“Promise me.” I lifted my head, catching her stare. “Promise me you won’t forget this, Poppy. That no matter what happens tomorrow, the next day, next week, you won’t forget this—forget that this was real.”

“I promise,” she swore with hesitation. “I won’t forget.”

HIGHLY INAPPROPRIATE

I came back to the bed, a glass of mulled wine in one hand and a damp cloth in the other. Poppy hadn’t moved since I left her, actually listening to me. She lay on her side, her arms crossed over her chest, knees slightly bent, and gloriously nude. My gaze traced the decadent curves of her body. I could stand here all night and look at her, but that, admittedly, would be weird.

“Princess.”

Poppy opened her eyes as I planted a knee on the bed. “Don’t call me that.”

“But it’s so fitting,” I murmured, grinning where her brows snapped together. “I brought you something to drink.”

“Thank you.” Poppy sat, her chin dipped as she unfolded her arms and took the glass.

Sensing her shyness, I made myself act like a gentleman. For once. I waited until she was finished before I took a sip and then placed it on the nightstand beside her dagger. My grin spread. “Lie down.”

Arms pressed tightly to her sides and her hair tumbling in a wild mess over her shoulders and breasts, she stared up at me. She didn’t move.

“You look thoroughly debauched,” I said. Her cheeks turned pink. “I like it.”

“It’s inappropriate for you to point that out,” she said.

“More inappropriate than me licking between your thighs?”

Poppy’s lips parted.

“Did Miss Willa ever write what that was called in that diary of hers?” I asked, leaning over her. I pressed my fingers under her chin, tipping her head back so her gaze met mine. I kissed her. “There are many names for it. I could list them for you—”

“That won’t be necessary.”

“You sure?” I kissed the corner of her mouth as I eased her down onto her side and then onto her back.

“I’m sure.” Her hand went to my arm, loosely holding on as I sat beside her.

I chuckled. “Whatever you say, Princess.” I lowered the cloth I held, tearing my gaze from the tips of her breasts that peeked through the strands of her hair. “Can you do me a favor?”

“What?”

“Open your legs for me.”