Laszlo's hands went to the draping fabric at the front of his waist, untying the sash. The twin drapes of fabric slid aside, and at his back, folds and crosses of material swung loose, revealing smooth planes of golden skin and knots of muscle that grew thicker and more pronounced, trails of feathers falling down the lines of his shoulder blades where his wings sprouted from. I hadn't realized the many layers of his shirt were really one long, continuous garment that crossed and twisted around his wings, and my fingers now itched to touch, to assist, to unbind a body that was broader than I'd
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