Alec took him in. His sculpted chest. His abs. That captivating birthmark. King? Hell, no. This Kríe was a motherfucking deity. “Alick,” Zercy murmured. “Your eyes on my body… It heats my blood. My loins. Makes me drunk.” Alec met his smoldering gaze. “I can’t help it. You’re beautiful. I could look at you forever.”
