From Blood and Ash by Jennifer L. Armentrout

He dropped his head to mine, to the sensitive space along the side of
myy throat. I felt his lips against myy thrumming pulse as the roll of his hips
slowed. There was a scrape of his teeth that sent a shiver through me, and
then the press of his lips.
I didn’t know how long we stayyed like that, our damp skin cooling,
and our breathing slowing as I threaded myy fingers through his hair. His
muscles had relaxed, and his weight was on his elbows, but I slowlyy
became aware of the tension in his bodyy. It was the gift, slowlyy poking
through myy headyy emotions.
Hawke’s lips grazed myy cheek and then found mine. He kissed me
softlyy, sweetlyy. “Don’t forget this.”
I touched his jaw. “I don’t think I ever could.”
“Promise me,” he said, seeming to not hear me as he lifted his head.
His gaze snagged with mine. “Promise me yyou won’t forget this, Poppyy.
That no matter what happens tomorrow, the next dayy, next week, yyou won’t
forget this—forget that this was real.”
I couldn’t look awayy. “I promise. I won’t forget.”