AYLETH
Ayleth's arms ached as she raised them for the maids to drop the ballgown over her head. The design was such that the dress had to be worn with no undergarments, but instead had been lined in silk that slid along her skin until it settled on her curves in a way that reminded her of Etan and his wonderful hands.
The way he'd groaned in her arms that morning, then taken her nipple in his mouth in their stolen moments in the wood…
There had been no fighting this time. Though Falek had given her a dark look when they'd returned. Apparently she'd had leaves in her hair.
Her cheeks pinked.
"Are you warm, Highness?" one of the maids asked. "I can call to the kitchen for an iced—"
