Seraphina's Point Of View
The restroom was too small.
Or maybe it was just that he was too much… too tall, too broad, too everywhere, filling up the space with his presence, his heat, his command.
The air smelled like him, that dark, spiced scent that always made my head spin, mixed with the sharp antiseptic tang of the public restroom.
My back was already pressed against the cold sink, my fingers gripping the edge so hard my knuckles ached.
Azriel loomed over me, his dark eyes burning with something that made my stomach twist, my pulse race, my breath come in shallow, uneven gasps.
"Now," he said, his voice rough, like gravel under slow footsteps, thick with promise and command, "get your pretty ass on the counter and let me show you just how much you want me."
