Recalling how much he'd loved her touching them,
she ran her fingers along them. He shuddered even when unconscious.
Next her eyes flitted over his face. He had chiseled good-looks-a strong nose and squared chin-marred only by his deep scar. The wound had obviously been severe, and she wondered how he'd gotten it.
She eased her gaze lower. This demon had a body like she'd never known.
Sabine had always preferred more dapper physiques. The men she was attracted to were almost always of the Sorceri, rarefied smooth operators. Rydstrom was no smooth-talking sorcerer-he was raw masculinity.
This didn't mean she was eager to bed him. Historically, she'd proved averse to being bitten, and demons marked their females upon claiming them. And a demon's very looks changed during sex with a mate, his features becoming sharper, his skin deepening in color, his upper and lower fangs growing.
What would it be like to have Rydstrom turn fully demonic, growling and thrusting over her? To have this powerful body working hers to orgasm? She drank deeply of her wine.
Sabine hadn't been lying about wanting his pants to remain on for effect-naturally, she planned to take his zipper with her teeth-but that didn't mean she didn't want to see him, or, rather .. . it.
She set her goblet on the bedstand, then slowly unzipped his pants. What was revealed made her bite her bottom lip.
A pattern of scars ran along the length of his thick shaft. Though he wasn't now, he'd once been pierced.
Sabine had heard rumors of archaic male rites of passage among many of the Demonarchies, but she'd thought the rage demons had done away with them
eons ago.