"OH, DEAR GODS!" FERRA STOOD PANTING with a vampire's teeth in her neck. A beautiful vampire. One with a hard voice that made many a Lady swoon and with a sculptured body to rival the beauty of the Fae. But then, he was also of the Faerie folk. And how delicious the bite of his fangs.
Marsil was Lust and Desire. He smelled like fresh rain and he looked like a Lady's night fantasy. As he drank from her, Ferra could only clutch hard to his dark robes and enjoy the hard tone of muscle under the fine tunic.
If there ever ruled a god to manifest these darkest pleasures, none other could be truer than the moon-eyed gladiator. His exquisite sister had her hands in Ferra's full coal hair and there was nowhere else she'd rather be.
"Yes, sweet Prince. Drink, dear brother."
