Evilangel
Sheena Shaw Pic(s)
The dim light of the chamber clung to his silhouette like a second skin, casting long shadows that whispered secrets across the stone floor. His fingers, cool and deliberate, traced the curve of her collarbone, a slow, deliberate path that made her breath catch in her throat. The air grew thick with the scent of sandalwood and something darker, something primal that coiled low in her belly. Each button of her blouse gave way beneath his touch, a soft pop of surrender that echoed in the quiet room. The fabric parted, a silent invitation for his palm to press agat the flutter of her heart, its rhythm a wild drum agat his skin. A shiver traced its way down her spine as his lips found the hollow of her throat, a kiss that was both promise and punishment. She could feel the hard lines of his body through the thin barrier of her skirt, a pressure that promised to unravel her completely. Her own hands rose to tangle in his hair, pulling him closer, needing to taste the danger on his tongue. In that suspended moment, every forbidden desire was laid bare, a map of wicked intent written upon their joined flesh.
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