Arkai stood there, burning with so many different emotions that he couldn't separate one from another.
What… did she just say…?
The words echoed in his mind, refusing to settle, refusing to make sense. He should have been angry. Any sane man would have been angry at being discussed this way.
But he wasn't mad.
He was—
Shameful.
That was the word. Shameful. And beneath the shame, lurking in the dark corners where he didn't want to look—
Aroused.
Shameful because he was aroused.
Why—
Why, when she spoke, did his mind instantly supply images? Cecilia, as his sister, walking through his room in something too short, too revealing, to borrow something trivial. Cecilia, brushing past him, her scent filling his lungs. Cecilia, pinned against the wall, his body pressed against hers, his hands—
Why was he imagining Cecilia Araceli as his sister and putting his cock inside her?
The thought was obscene. Twisted. Wrong in every way a thought could be wrong.
