September 5, 2014
Rori was treading on shaky ground, she knew that. He was beautiful. Perfect. His face was like a painting, a sculpture. The hard planes could seem cruel, but right now were softened by his emotions. Love? Patience? She didn’t know. She knew one thing for sure. He wasn’t trying to hide now. He’d taken his shirt off, and she’d lost the use of her vocal chords. He was beautifully made; muscular without being
massively huge, golden skin that begged for kisses…he turned so she could see him, and she froze. What would she do if he had wings sprouting from his shoulders?
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