"You're absolutely stunning, my dearest duchess," Riley growled, the words rumbling from deep in his chest like the low, possessive roar of a lion claiming its mate.
His voice was thick with raw desire, husky and commanding, sending a delicious shiver racing down Monique's spine.
She could see the fire blazing in his dark eyes—pupils blown wide, lids heavy with unrestrained lust.
His sharp jaw was clenched, a faint flush coloring the high planes of his cheeks, and the way he looked at her, as if she were the only thing in the entire world worth devouring, made her feel both cherished and utterly helpless beneath the weight of his hunger.
Riley's large, calloused hands—gentle despite their strength—guided her slowly down onto the plush bed.
The cool silk sheets contrasted sharply with the burning heat of her skin, making her gasp softly as her back settled against them.
