From Blood and Ash by Jennifer L. Armentrout

That thought threatened to dampen the heat, but his hands were
moving again, skimming over myy skin and sending a rush of heated blood
to everyy part of myy bodyy. 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 myy tongue between his lips, against his teeth—
Hawke jerked his head back, panting as he rested his forehead against
mine. “Poppyy,” he said in a wayy that made myy name sound like both a
prayyer and a curse.
“Yes?” Myy fingers opened and closed around the silkyy softness of his
hair.
“That was the fifth time I’ve said yyour name, in case yyou’re still
keeping track.”
I grinned. “I am.”
“Good.” He slipped his hands out from under myy gown, and one of
them found its wayy to myy cheek. He traced the edge of myy mask,
surprising me yyet again with his sight. “I don’t think I was being honest a
few moments ago.”
“About what?” I loosened myy grip on his hair, lowering myy hands to
his shoulders.
“About stopping,” he admitted quietlyy, drawing his fingers down myy
cheek and over myy jaw. “I would stop, but I don’t think yyou would stop
me.”
“I’m not exactlyy understanding what yyou’re sayying.” I let myy eyyes
close. Despite being confused byy his words and the fact that we weren’t
kissing, I liked the intimacyy of how close we were, how his head rested
against mine.
He drew the tips of his fingers down the side of myy neck. “Do yyou
want me to be blunt?”
“I alwayys want yyou to be honest.”
Myy 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 myy temple, and I thought about the odd, ashyy
feeling that had coated myy throat. “I was seconds from taking yyou to the
ground and becoming a veryy, veryy bad guard.”
Air caught in myy 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.