“Pushing himself off the bed in a violent thrust, his lats widen like wings down his sides, where his waistcoat is open halfway to his waist to accommodate muscular builds, he indicates the gilded cage with outstretched arms. Showing off his supreme musculature, he says, “We have forever Phoebe.”

“Snatching my hand in the death grip of his fingers, he pulls me off the wall to line his chest, closing his body around me in a muscular cage which smells of leather and soap.”

“A shade slinks over me and I'm caught off guard when he leans down, placing a blossom in my cleavage, his face shadowed and secretive.”

“He follows me down, catching his weight on either side of my head so he can leer his face into mine, coiling muscles and immobility at me, “I want you to lay into me. Fight me.”

“What's it like feeling the smooth heat of that arm, tracing the supernatural muscles bunched in his arms and chest, teasing anyone with a pulse and hormones to lick their way down the divots and planes of that skin, to unbutton the leather shielding his body and taste all the way down to that silver buckle on his belt.”

“His eyes are piercing and intense, the stare they give me brimming with threat and interest, folding thick arms over a broad chest, rippling the muscles in his forearms and etching the tattoos down his arms into stark highlight.”

“He sits next to me, the veins on his neck and arms seeming more prominent than they did earlier. His mouth compresses, igniting his eyes with esoteric light, pulling me into the magnetic undertow.”