Queens of Mist and Madness (Fae Isles, #4)

by Lisette Marshall

‘Cactus,’ a sleepy voice rasped behind me. I froze, then turned, blinking against the darkness as my eyes fought to make sense of shadows and silhouettes. The rustle of wings against fabric told me he was sitting up. Another whisper of motion, and the faelights lit up around us, silvery rays flooding the room and revealing the exquisitely sculpted, extremely naked body I had left behind in the blankets a moment ago. Gods help me. No matter how hard I willed myself to be sensible, no matter how familiar the view after all this time, my heart still skipped a beat at the sight of that raw male glory – rendered all the more tantalising, somehow, by the vulnerability of his half-woken state. He truly didn’t know how not to be irresistible. Even fogged with sleep, he oozed beauty and power; when he yawned and propped himself up on his elbows, muscles flexed in unfairly ravishing ways, sending his chest and abdomen rippling like liquid gold in the dusky light.