Phei rose from his knees in one smooth, predatory motion, hands gliding up the trembling warmth of her thighs until his fingers nearly met at the razor-sharp dip of her waist.
The impossible cinch—narrow enough to make his palms feel enormous—fit perfectly in his grip. He lifted her without effort, setting her upright, steadying her when her knees threatened to buckle under the aftershocks still rippling through her core.
She swayed, breath coming in short, greedy pants, chest heaving so hard the thin black halter strained against her tight, aching nipples.
He turned her slowly—deliberately—until her back faced him.
The sight punched the air out of his lungs.
Midnight hair spilled down the long, elegant column of her spine like black ink poured over cream marble, ending in soft waves just above the dramatic, heart-stopping swell of her ass.
