The heady scent of him filled her nostrils, that particular blend of salt and sea and musk that was his alone. Just the smell of him made the blood rush to her core; the feel of his strong arms, the sweet taste of his mouth made her whole body pulse with need and longing.Marcus made a groaning noise deep in his throat and started to pull away."Don't you dare," she breathed in his ear. "If you stop kissing me, I'll... I'll bite you.
Deborah Blake, Wickedly Wonderful
dragons, fractured-russian-folk-tale, urban-fantasy-romance, witches