Moving from her absolutely breathtaking breasts, despite every attempt at discipline, his eyes continued downward, unable to stop.
The soft underside of her breasts gave way to the clean, elegant line of her torso, and Sol felt the air leave his lungs in a slow, helpless rush.
Moonlight spilled across her skin like liquid silver, tracing every curve with the kind of reverence a man usually reserved for things he wanted to ruin.
Her stomach was flat and smoothly defined, the faint suggestion of abdominal muscle visible beneath the soft layer of feminine flesh… not the hard, carved grid of a young fighter still proving herself, but the softer more refined strength of a woman whose body had been tempered by both combat and command.
The subtle ridges of her abs caught the moonlight when she breathed, a living reminder that the softness of her breasts and hips was supported by real power.
Sol's gaze dragged lower, becoming more greedy and slow.
