Draziel's POV
My loins burned as I stared down at her naked body. Her olive skin was tanned so brown that as the sunlight kissed her skin with its radiant glow, her skin shimmered like pure gold.
Hell! She is perfect, beautiful. She is everything I could ever wish for.
I sucked in a slow, deep breath, filling my nostrils with her scent—that almost jasmine scent that spreads calm through my chest. Now, it spreads heat through my veins, while my eyes move over her body, touring every inch of the smooth expanse of clear golden skin.
She threw her arms around my neck. "Draziel. Please take me." She begged, her voice so low, even a whisper sounded louder—tuned that low by the ache and desire that echoed through it.
Why would she even beg me to take her? Every inch of me was burning so hard for that single task already.
"I will, Lyra," I answered, my voice roughened with lust. "I damn well will, Lyra. I want you more than you can ever imagine." I told her.
