Saint (Priest, #3)

by Sierra Simone

There is something wonderful about slow, languorous lovemaking, about tracing over someone’s body with loitering fingers and lips. The kind of sex that remits revelations which might sound infinitesimal to anyone else—the existence of a small scar, perhaps, or a few crisp hairs at the top of a foot—but that are life-changing in their discovery. In its intimacy, its affection, its vulnerability, and in its capacity to haunt, evoke, tease, reward…