Lethal game of seduction
He remembered her from her eyes - sultry lids armed with silken fringes that were bent like barbs, dangerous to anyone who wished to meet her glance. He remembered the growl that lingered in the back of her throat, a low feline purr as she ran her hands across his skin in the darkness of a lowly lit room. She was the play of shadows across her thighs when her dress fell to the floor, the rush of blood through his veins when she pressed her lithe frame against his. He remembered her in the gasping breaths and escalating moans that ended with his bones on hers.
She was not his, she belonged to the night, and to him, she would always be the night.
