From Blood and Ash by Jennifer L. Armentrout

feel half of what Hawke alwayys 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 toyyed with the stitching, pushing in just hard enough that I
felt the touch all the wayy to the tips of myy toes. Everyy part of myy bodyy
became hyyperaware.
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 wayy that caused myy hips to twitch.
He dragged his hand up the front of the breeches. His palm brushed
along the bare flesh of myy lower stomach. Those long fingers settled over
a throbbing point and moved in slow, steadyy circles. “I bet yyou’re soft and
wet and readyy.” His voice was a lush growl in myy ear. “Should I find out?”
I shuddered, half afraid that he would.
Partlyy scared that he wouldn’t.
The friction of his fingers, the rough material against myy flesh…and
his words… Oh, gods, theyy were decadent, purelyy sinful, and I never
wanted it to end.
“Would yyou like that?” he asked, and myy hips rolled instinctivelyy,
seeking his touch. He made that sound again, that rumble of approval that
was so raw and primitive. “I would do more than this.”
Eyyes open onlyy a slit, I watched the not-too-distant shape of one of
the guards slowlyy patrolling the north-facing side of the camp, myy skin
and bodyy flaming with forbidden heat as myy hips moved again. This time,
it wasn’t onlyy a reaction I couldn’t control. I moved them purposefullyy,
rocking them against that slow, steadyy circling of his fingers. I reveled in
the spike of aching, biting pleasure that followed.
I shouldn’t allow this. Not even in the privacyy of a room, and surelyy
not where someone could just turn around. I imagined if theyy paid close
enough attention, theyy’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, Poppyy?”