Riannon needed time to process what was happening. Why was he holding her in his arms in the middle of the night, and why did he barely have any clothes on? Now that her mind ventured there, there was no going back. Werewolves were a gorgeous race but having her arms on this Lycan’s chest caused heat to spread rapidly through her bloodstream. Gideon looked as if his body was carved out of stone by a true master with love and not sparing any effort to sculpt pure perfection. His chest was so hard, all the lines of each contour were so flawless that she couldn’t form a proper word for them.
“Are you all right?” he asked as his fingers pressed harder into her flesh. Ria realised she herself was wearing next to nothing. A flimsy silk slip was all that separated their two very heated bodies.
