‘Good,’ he grinned, wolfish in the half light that filtered through the thick white canvas., because it is torture to be so close to you, and be turned away.’ His fingers trailed the length of his arm from wrist to elbow. Her breath caught as he held her gaze.
Sastra fumbled for something to say, to refuse the man once more. But her heartbeat was uneven, heat rising on the back of her neck as stared into his dark eyes and saw the stars within them.
Kivan smirked again, running the pad of his thumb along her arm to her shoulder. He curled his fingers around the back of her neck. Losing his hand into the thick tresses of her long blonde hair. ‘Like the sun has turned away from the sand,’ he murmured. His grip upon her hair was rough, fierce and she gasped. A strange thread of pain minglin
