Chapter 40: My Home is your Home (III).
Rowan grumbled as she adjusted the fabric again, the nightgown barely accommodating her frame. Every movement made her muscles flex- her biceps tensing as she pulled at the delicate straps, the fabric straining across her chest, her abs shifting with every deep breath.
'To whoever god is listening to my thoughts right now please I beg of you to answer me why you've given me such a wonderful woman with toned abs?! It's so hard controlling myself not to touch it!' (Princess Camille) was drowning.
Her eyes roamed shamelessly, fixating on every inch of exposed skin.
The strong curve of Rowan's shoulders, the dip between her collarbones, the way the soft fabric clung to her waist but refused to hide the sculpted lines of her stomach.
A deep warmth coiled in Princess Camille's chest, rising to her cheeks, to the tips of her ears. Her mouth was dry, yet she couldn't stop her tongue from darting out to wet her lips.
