Her skin was pure, flawless pale, completely covered in intricate, glowing cyan tattoos that pulsed with the rhythm of her breathing, and her long, silver hair fell down her back in damp, heavy waves.
The room was sweltering hot, thanks to whatever ritual she was doing. And she was sweating profusely. Thick beads of sweat rolled down her long, elegant neck, tracing the deep valley of her cleavage and making the thin linen wraps cling tightly to her lush, mature curves.
The sweat made her skin glisten. She looked mature, dangerous, and impossibly hot.
Sol's throat went bone dry. He swallowed hard, an audible gulp in the quiet room. The primal, raw display of her powers, combined with the slick, sweat-covered skin and her mature, commanding presence, shook whatever restraints were left deep in his mind.
The intense battle-lust that had been simmering in his veins for days suddenly mutated, awakening a heavy, burning spike of pure lust in his gut.
