The Alphas’Dirty Desires : Moan for Us
And mirrored aviators to shield those eyes from prying gazes—because no one else gets to see her soul.
He drapes the bundle over his arm, holding it out like an offering. “You’ll look perfect in these. Deadly. Irresistible.”
Velaria takes the clothes, her fingers brushing his in a touch that sends visible sparks through all of us. She glances between the three of us—tall, brooding, our shirts unbuttoned just enough to show the tattoos swirling across our chests, identical marks of our cursed lineage. Her gaze lingers, heating, and she lets out a soft, breathless laugh that goes straight to my groin.