The dimly lit room carried the faint aroma of burning incense, the flickering flames from small oil lamps casting shadows that danced against the stone walls. The air was still, thick with warmth, yet Nate barely noticed any of it as his gaze remained fixed on Tiaa.
With a slow, deliberate motion, she reached for the hem of her cloth, her fingers gripping the fabric as she pulled it upward, revealing inch after inch of her smooth, bronze-toned skin. The soft glow of the firelight accentuated the subtle curves of her waist, the dip of her abdomen, the graceful outline of her hips that were neither too wide nor too narrow—just the right shape to demand attention without excessive exaggeration.
The final piece of cloth slipped away, sliding down her frame until it pooled at her feet. And just like that, she stood before him, completely bare, unashamed, unbothered by her own nudity, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
