Creed swaggered into his bedroom like a young king returning to his private palace after winning a deadly war.
On either side of him clung Lilith and Tierra, his loyal, dangerous, absurdly gorgeous summons who, in this moment, had fully transformed into something far scarier than warriors.
They were now sultry, affectionate women in a state of intense hunger and desire.
They were latched onto his arms like clingy koalas with too much soft curves and dangerously long legs.
Every step he took toward the bed came with a giggle, a sigh, or a whisper in his ear that made his toes curl and his brain short-circuit.
Lilith was nibbling at his neck with her sharp little teeth, whispering something about "reclaiming what was hers," while Tierra was tracing slow, hot lines over his chest like she was sketching battle plans straight onto his skin.
