Willow
O.M.G. Commander Zarren Helion—my mate—was smoking hot. The warden had shown me his picture, back on Prillon Prime. Sure, he’d been handsome—if severe—in the image. But in the flesh? He was a tidal wave of raw sexuality and I was drowning.
smokingDrowning in heat like a howling cat. I want some.
Drowning in heat like a howling cat. I want some.For once, inner-me agreed.
He was tall, like all Prillon warriors. That was no surprise. His features more angular than a human man’s. His skin was a middle shade among Prillons, not a fair, golden shade, not dark brown or reddish copper. Somewhere in between, like a polished, smoky quartz. His black hair looked so smooth it shimmered and reflected different colors when the light hit. His lips? Full and totally kissable. But it was his cat
