Lana wrapped her arms around his muscular frame, breathing in his familiar scent.
She ran her fingers along his muscular forearm.
The warmth of his muscular chest was like a magnet.
He didn't wear a coat today and his shirtsleeves were rolled up to reveal brown muscular forearms.
His thick arms were around her, his muscular chest at her back.
The man was in his prime with silver hair and dark eyes, a handsome face, and a body as muscular as Talon's.
His silver gaze was wary and his muscular frame only slightly smaller than Gabriel's.
His snow cloud-colored eyes were piercing, his muscular frame making her warm from the inside out.
"I didn.t expect to see you here," Rhyn said, taking in Gabriel.s muscular form as he fought the sparring dummies behind the Sanctuary.
She ran a hand along his sleek neck and patted the muscular shoulder.
Brady stretched a muscular arm across the table beside him to tug the box out of his other uniform.
Despite his apparently delicate build Prince Andrew could endure physical fatigue far better than many very muscular men, and on the night of the battle, having arrived at Krems excited but not weary, with dispatches from Dokhturov to Kutuzov, he was sent immediately with a special dispatch to Brunn.
She clung to his muscular shoulders, returning his ardent embrace.
He was built from the same mold—large and muscular, the kind of man more fitted to military special forces or UFC prizefighting than financial planning.
The muscular frame, black gaze, dark clothes all looked the same.
As he spoke, he peeled off his shirt to reveal a whip-like, muscular upper body coated by a thin layer of tan skin.
Gazing at the muscular man who freely admitted to killing for a living, Deidre couldn't help thinking she never wanted to see something he couldn't handle.
Response as she sagged against him or of the muscular form that lifted her from the floor and carried her away.
She stood over him, staring again at his muscular back.
Sometimes she puts her hand on a singer's throat to feel the muscular thrill and contraction, and from this she gets genuine pleasure.
In my account of Helen last year, I mentioned several instances where she seemed to have called into use an inexplicable mental faculty; but it now seems to me, after carefully considering the matter, that this power may be explained by her perfect familiarity with the muscular variations of those with whom she comes into contact, caused by their emotions.
He looked like a professional wrestler with his muscular physique, tattoos, and long braid.
He leaned back in a chair across from her with muscular, feline grace, managing to appear both at ease and ready to pounce.
Muscular and dark-skinned, Tamer was hunched over the table in the center of the room, putting the final magic touches on a new compass.
He was muscular and tall, clothed in dark jeans, a snug grey T-shirt that hugged his biceps and stretched across his chest and back and then sagged at his slender torso and hips, and a round black medallion that fell from his T-shirt as he leaned over her.
Her breath caught at the sight of his wide, muscular chest, and the pants that dropped dangerously low on his hips.
Cocoa skin, soulful dark eyes, exotic features, and brilliant tattoos over his exposed, muscular arms.
Beautiful women that rivaled Claire and men so handsome, even age couldn't diminish their muscular bodies or riveting looks.
The death dealer stripped off his shirt and weapons to display a muscular body.
Death was a dark, towering, muscular figure in the living area of her apartment, clothed in black and wearing an expression that mirrored what she felt.
He wore black pants that hugged his lower body to reveal the lean hips and long, muscular legs.
Just under seven feet tall and muscular, he wore all black with weapons strapped to various parts of his body.
With his chiseled features and muscular frame, he was without a doubt the sexiest man she'd ever seen.
He wore jeans and a snug t-shirt that outlined his muscular frame.
The speaker crouched, a muscular man with liquid silver eyes.
His lean torso, narrow hips and the outline of muscular thighs reminded her too well why she wasn't able to get him out of her mind.
It was not a stretch, not with his muscular body pressed against her and his rugged features so close.
He pulled out a small stack of clothing from the backpack and peeled off his shirt, displaying the lean, muscular body beneath.
To run her hands over the washboard abs or twirl her fingertips through the tight hairs dusting his chest …Or better yet, to feel his large hands and muscular body against hers ...
The muscular woman, with short blond hair and clad in black tactical gear, stood in a stark white hallway.
Lana struggled hard without being able to dislodge the muscular man.
In a blink, she was pinned on top of his warm body, his arms locked around her and his muscular legs wrapped around hers.
Elise peeled off her shirt to reveal a snug undershirt that outlined the shape of her muscular upper body.
Everywhere on the bank, on the dam, and in the pond, there was healthy, white, muscular flesh.
Four soldiers were holding him, and a spectacled doctor was cutting into his muscular brown back.
The moonlight formed shadows on his muscular chest.
Even his hands were muscular, and she couldn't help comparing his light touch to Talon's brutal grip.
His elbows were propped on his knees, the trench falling back to show a lean body, flat stomach and muscular thighs outlined by the soft material of his pants.
Startled, Deidre's gaze went from the muscular legs to his face.
He wore silk pajama bottoms and was barefoot, his muscular upper body on display.
He was muscular and buff beneath the trench.
Any other day, she'd have stared at his hard body and the way his jeans hugged his muscular thighs and the round globes of his backside, or the T-shirt that fit so well.
Her eyes swept over his muscular form, from his shapely shoulders and wide back to the thick thighs outlined by the sweats.
She moved away from the gate, tearing her gaze from his lean muscular thighs.
One fair-haired young soldier of the third company, whom Prince Andrew knew and who had a strap round the calf of one leg, crossed himself, stepped back to get a good run, and plunged into the water; another, a dark noncommissioned officer who was always shaggy, stood up to his waist in the water joyfully wriggling his muscular figure and snorted with satisfaction as he poured the water over his head with hands blackened to the wrists.
The sight of his muscular, bare torso made her heart flop in her chest.
She moved his weapons, pushed his heavy body out of the way to see if he hid them beneath one of his muscular thighs.
His muscular frame and direct gaze made her uneasy.