“Part of you is the wind,” he murmured. “Oui, that is true. But even the wind sometimes rests.”Shaking her head, she slid her hand around the back of his neck, soaking in the intrinsically male heat of his skin. “Then consider me an endless storm.”

“A hand in her hair, wrenching back her head. "What's my name?"She scratched trails down his back. He didn't even wince. "My name, kitty. Say my name.""Mr. Mud Stick, Muddie for short," she said, even as she rubbed herself against the hard thrust of his denim-covered erection, the roughness of the fabric an exquisite sensation. She would've liked naked skin even more, but he wasn't budging."Say it, or no cock for you today."Her mouth fell open. "Fuck you.""You'll be doing that shortly.”

“Oh, this is a special blend for you." Taking one of the fingers she hadn't licked, he rubbed it along her lips. "What we usually shed is apparently comparable to the most delicious of chocolates or the finest of wines. Decadent, rich, and very expensive."She told herself she wasn't going to lick the glitter off her lips. "And this blend?" The taste was inside her mouth without her having any knowledge of taking it in. And Raphael was incredibly close, his wings creating a white gold wall all around them his hands strong and warm on her hips. "What's so special about it?""This blend," he murmured, bending his head, "is about sex."She put her hands on his chest but it wasn't a protest. After the blood, the fear, she needed to touch him, to know this glorious creature existed. "Another form of mind control?"He shook his head, his mouth a hairbreadth from hers. "It's only fair.""Fair?" She flicked her tongue along his lower lip. It made his hands clench on her hips."If I licked you between your thighs, your taste would have the same aphrodisiac effect on me.”

“Smiling, she went for his throat and almost had him, when—using a move that was all sorts of illegal—he flipped her again so her front pressed into the leaf-laden ground, her wrists still locked in his iron grip and pinned above her head. “Cheater.” “So says the woman who tried to kick my balls into my throat,” he pointed out, even as he licked the salt off the skin of her neck in a lazy and highly provocative move.”

“His hand closed around her throat. Not a threat. Just the most possessive way a predatory changeling male had of touching a woman outside of sex. “Don’t say his name.” He brushed his thumb across her pulse.”

“She watched as he settled down on the bed with Naya skin to skin on his chest. His hand all but covered her tiny body as he stroked her in that changeling way, bonding with her on the most elemental level. Then he purred, and Naya made a happy little sound of delight, very much a cat in her love of touch.”

“You,” she murmured, using both hands to undo his belt, “are the sexiest man I have ever met.” He made her think bad thoughts simply by breathing.”