He moved his hands lower, slipping past the dimples of her lower back and gripping the edges of the skimpy linen wrap tied around her hips. The fabric was already riding up dangerously high, soaked completely through with her sweat.
Sol didn't pull it off, but he didn't respect the boundary either.
He slid his large, calloused hands right over the thin, wet fabric, gripping the heavy, soft meat of her thighs. He squeezed hard, his fingers digging into the muscle, pulsing a heavy, concentrated wave of the Free Use power directly into her legs.
Zephyra's entire body went rigid for a split second, locking up from the sheer, blinding overload of pleasure, before she melted completely into a mess of raw, breathless whimpers.
Sol began to work his hands down her legs. He massaged the backs of her thighs, his thumbs digging deep into the flesh, pulling and kneading the tight muscles that had held her steady on that watchtower.
