“Really, Nate,” she said, though her eyes drank in his form avidly. “Do you think I'm going to pleasure you when you're wearing that? Everything comes off,” she demanded.
Swallowing, he pulled the shirt up over his head and dropped it on the floor with the rest of his clothes.
He's beautiful.
In some sane corner of her mind, Doriel knew that the mere thought was laughable. Compared to the eye-searing splendor of some of her past lovers, Nate was a clumsy figure molded of clay. Even compared to other humans, he was no more than pleasant-looking. His face was too long, too bony. His hair was a rumpled mess, badly in need of a cutting. His shoulders were nice and broad, but if genetics were any clue, he would have to be careful in the future, or he would be the recipient of a pot-belly lik
