He laid Adele down on the bed, over its soft white cotton sheets.
Carefully, so as not to wake her.
Thanks to that, she slept soundly, her breathing deep and even.
Her pale face was flushed faintly pink at the cheeks, her dark lashes falling neat and even. Her red lips, parted just slightly, made her look like an innocent girl one moment and a seductress the next.
Christine stared at her, unmoving.
He felt the blood in his body turn hot, a thirst burning in his throat.
A woman soft as flower petals, sweet as honey, it seemed.
A beautiful rose he wanted to have, even if it meant breaking the stem.
He swallowed hard.
His throat bobbed sharply. The veins stood out on the back of his hand as he clenched his fist tight.
"Damn it, I know that much myself..."
The low words ground out from between…
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