She was speechless.


The sight of him did make something tingle inside, but she brushed it off as the wine’s effect. He smiled and told her in thought, ‘Angelics don’t get tingles from mere wine.’


She scooted herself farther on the bed as he came closer. “I…have no clue…what you are talking about.”


“Let me show you.” He leaned over her and gently brushed his lips on hers. A gentle power flowed over them.


“Feel that?” he asked. “That’s desire.”


“I am sure it is fear, not desire,” she whispered.


“Then fear me, little one.”

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