The Pack's Emissary
“Lust.”
She was breathless, her hands pushing at the thick fabric of the shirt that covered him. “I can’t even think of something clever to say,” she told him as he assisted her in stripping it from him, the muscles in his arms standing out against his skin, rippling beneath the tattoo, as he did so. “Get naked and get into me, Daddy.”
“Morgana,” he stepped back and pushed the jeans down so that her breath caught as his muscular hips, thighs, and calves were exposed in a slow slide of fabric.
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