by Skye Jones
About to state that technically the man had already been within ten yards of her, Lilly bit back her cocky response. If she pissed off Claire and her mates, they might get sick of her and let these beasts take her.
For a moment, a sick thrill ran through her and her blood heated at the thought, but she swallowed it down with more cool water. She’d lost her mind. It provided the only explanation for how she could possibly be sitting on the floor, half wanting to run far away from those two big scary men, and half wanting to run toward them as fast as her legs would carry her, telling them to do wicked and terrible things to her as they carried her off.
“Come. Let’s leave the men to their talk. You need to sit down and get yourself together.” Claire led her out of the room and toward the large glass conservatory.
Not sure what else to do, Lilly let herself be dragged meekly away from the two visitors, but she couldn’t resist turning back for one last glance. Rhyndor turned to her as she paused by the door and ran his tongue over firm, harsh lips, and her legs nearly buckled. Shit, she was in trouble.