" Lie down," she said, and she couldn't recognize her voice. It sounded slow and languid and low, as if it were warm honey.
She felt the place between her legs heat.
He cocked his head at her, and for a moment she thought he wouldn't obey her. He seemed a god of the darkness, scarred and black haired and gray eyed. He was tall and lean but with ropes of muscles down his arms and legs. A formidable creature. A creature accustomed to wielding power. Did such as he follow the commands of mortals?
But he humored her, crawling onto the bed and settling himself in the very middle, sprawled against a pillow like an Ottoman potentate. "

― Elizabeth Hoyt , Duke of Desire (Maiden Lane, #12)