Demon Hunting in the Deep South
“With a little moan, she pressed her body closer and tasted him, little silken brushes of her tongue that turned his blood to liquid fire and nearly brought him to his knees.He’d been too long without her. He wanted her too much. The hazy, lust-fogged thought registered over the frenzied pounding of his blood. His hands gentled along her slender back, moving past the enticing curve of her waist to cup her lush bottom. He pulled her closer, nudging the sweet haven between her legs with the bulge ...of his aching cock.Sweat trickled down his back and beaded his brow. By the sword, she strained his already-crumbling self-control. He wanted to take her now, plunge inside her with swift, hard strokes. Standing up, on the bed or on the floor, it mattered not. After months of wandering lost, he was starved for her.But that would not convince her of anything except his rapacious need, a need that she would attribute to animal appetite and nothing more. It would not convince her that she was beautiful and strong.MoreLess
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