Alaric
Nico stood there in front of me, his eyes still holding that sultry, crazy look that made my stomach tighten with a mixture of anticipation and pure, stubborn defiance.
He did not say another word. Instead, he reached for the belt of his robe slowly and let it fall open, inch by inch.
My breath caught in my throat, and I couldn't look away.
Every single part of me wanted to hate how much I needed to see this, but my body betrayed me completely.
He shrugged the robe off his shoulders and let it slide down his arms until it pooled at his feet. Nico was completely naked now, standing there in the dim light of the storm-lit room like some kind of rival god.
His skin was smooth and golden, still slightly damp from the earlier shower. His messy black hair was tossed in wild, tousled strands across his forehead.
The intricate black tattoos that covered his body seemed to come alive with every flash of lightning from outside.
