A soft hand touched the hard thing.
Leo flinched, his entire body jerking as if the mere brush of that delicate skin was enough to send violent shudders racing down his spine.
Heat surged through him. His face turned beet red, every breath staggered, and droplets of water slipped from his hair, falling like molten sparks onto the figure beneath him... Azrael.
Azrael lay sprawled against the wet marble, her midnight-black hair spreading around her like living vines, each strand clinging to the glistening stone. Her cheeks burned crimson, silver-violet eyes trembling, moist with the shimmer of tears, yet glowing with a fierce, unyielding fire.
Shame may have clawed at her heart, but she refused to surrender. No matter how sinful, no matter how heavy the desire pressed against her soul, she would not let go after coming this far.
