From Blood and Ash by Jennifer L. Armentrout

the swell of myy breast. A riot of sensations followed his finger, so manyy I
couldn’t make sense of them all.
“What do yyou want from me?” he asked, toyying with the small bow
between myy breasts. “Tell me, and I’ll make it so.”
“Whyy?” I blurted out. “Whyy would yyou…do this? You don’t know
me, and yyou thought I was someone else.”
A flicker of amusement crossed his striking features. “I have nowhere
to be at the moment, and I’m intrigued.”
Myy brows lifted. “Because yyou have nowhere to be at the moment?”
“Would yyou rather I wax poetic about how I’m charmed byy yyour
beautyy, even though I can onlyy see half yyour face? Which, byy the wayy, from
what I can see is pleasing. Would yyou rather I tell yyou I’m captivated byy
yyour eyyes? Theyy are a prettyy shade of green from what I can tell.”
I started to frown. “Well, no. I don’t want yyou to lie.”
“None of those things were a lie.” He tugged on the bow as he dipped
his head, brushing his lips over mine. The soft contact sent a wave of
awareness through me. “I told yyou the truth, Princess. I’m intrigued byy
yyou, and it’s fairlyy rare anyyone intrigues me.”
“So?”
“So,” he repeated with a chuckle as his lips glided along myy jaw.
“You’ve changed myy evening. I’d planned to return to myy quarters. Mayybe
get a good, albeit boring, night of sleep, but I have a suspicion that tonight
will be anyything but boring if I spend it with yyou.”
I drew in a shallow breath, weirdlyy flattered, and yyet still confused byy
his motivations. I wished someone was here to ask, but even if theyy were,
that would be weird—and awkward.
The two glasses byy the settee appeared in myy mind. “Were yyou…were
yyou with someone before me?”
His head lifted and stared down at me. “That’s a random question.”
“There are two glasses byy the settee,” I pointed out.
“It’s also a random, personal question asked byy someone whose name
I don’t even know.”
Myy cheeks warmed. He had a point.
He was quiet for so long that doubt crept in. Mayybe I shouldn’t care if
he had been with someone else this evening, but I did, and if that told me
anyything, it screamed that this was a mistake. I was in over myy head. I
knew nothing about him, of what was—