He bit lightly into the soft skin above my collarbone, right where his mark lay buried deep beneath my skin. I arched my back with a sharp, breathless moan, my fingers digging into his broad shoulders, feeling the thick, hardened muscles of his back flex under my touch.
Nash stripped off his dark tunic, tossing the velvet garment onto the floorboards before shedding the rest of his clothes.
He hovered over me in the moonlight, broad, muscular, and magnificent. His chest was covered in light dark hair, his abs carved tight, his broad shoulders scarred from years of war and the ten lashes he had taken on the ridge. But every scar only made him look more like the warrior king who had bled to bring me home.
His dark eyes swept down my bare body, heavy with an explicit, unholy desire that ma
