"Now let's continue to the next part," Sol rasped, shifting his hips forward slightly to realign his aching cock against the soft, wet junction of her thighs.
He waited for her to yield, to part her knees or to show even a fraction of the decisive hunger she had displayed when she first closed the distance, but Veylara simply remained frozen.
Her shoulders were locked, her spine straight as an arrow, and her deep blue eyes darted with an unmistakable flicker of hesitation.
The sovereign Chief who had just conquered three tribal domains suddenly looked completely out of her depth, stranded like a novice hunter facing an unfamiliar quarry.
She looked… at a loss.
Sol paused, lifting his head. "What's wrong?"
Veylara pressed her lips together, her chest rising and falling in sharp, tight breaths. A deep crimson flush crawled from her collarbones up to the tips of her ears.
