ELRETH
She'd let her hands ripple all the way up his sides, her fingers rolling up and down over the lines of muscle that painted his abdomen. Then he growled, "I want you," and every hair on her body stood up.
She raised her eyes to meet his, smiling, but he was already coming for her, mouth hot and needy, open, his tongue plunging to wrestle hers into submission.
He slid one hand up her side, up the underside of her arm, to her lace his fingers with hers, and pin the hand above her head on the tree, then pulled back far enough to see her that way again—submitted, his. She smiled up at him through her lashes, and he growled again, letting it putter in his throat as he used his other hand to tug at her braid, pulling her head back to bare her throat, then he opened his mouth over the curve of it, raked his teeth down either side of her jugular.