From "Demon Day" by Penelope Fletcher

His body was tall, face unspeakably beautiful, and his countenance fierce. Breandan glowed with a silver light that pulsed beneath his skin, and made the black tattoos covering his lean body from head to toe shift and move. The marks on his torso were stunning, swirling lines, and intricate patterns that weaved around runes of power, and incantations of magic. As always his eyes ensnared my attention first and kept it the longest. His silver-blue gaze was a prison I would readily endure for an eternity. They were mesmerizing, and more often than not trained on me. Drooling in the company of his family was probably not good manners, so I let my gaze drift to the left and enjoyed tracing the shape of his ear, curved to a  slender elliptical with a sharp point.

He wore dark segmented trousers, rigid across his thighs and shins, but flexible about his waist, groin, and knee joints. Fairy males did not wear tops so their chests were always temptingly bare. Breandan’s smooth and hard chest was more tempting than most.

Heart thumping, worked up from my bold and intimate stare, immediately I stood, and waited patiently for him to hold me when what I wanted was to run headlong into his arms, and rub myself over him.