“She'd never spoken so boldly in her life. Elspeth felt liquid warmth between her thighs as she watched Julian. It made her want to squirm. To press against herself. He was like a statue, a grave, beautiful Apollo, a god of music and poetry, who also held his sybil at Delphi jealously to his heart. Or so the myths said. But what if it was the other way around? What if the sybil, a mere mortal, drew the helpless god's powers to her and made him writhe in ecstasy as she proclaimed the future? Would that Apollo look like this just before he submitted to his oracle? Poised. Still. But almost quivering with strain?”
Book:No Ordinary Duchess
