Let me feed you,” he whispered, his tone suddenly husky.
He sounded like sex. Or at least, what Julia imagined sex would sound like if it was sitting on a white banquette with shining blue eyes and an arrogant jaw, trying to press a cold glass up to her mouth.
Oh my, Gabriel. Oh my, Gabriel. Oh my, Gabriel. Oh…my…Gabriel.
— Sylvain Reynard
#sylvain-reynard #imagination
