Ragal

She made quick strides towards me, making sure her legs were exposed. Her feet were strapped in heels and the way she walked felt posed yet effortless.

This confidence wasn't maidlike. It was purposeful.

I watched as her finger trailed my wounds softly. I couldn't believe the audacity.

"I am not a maid." She whispered in my ear, confirming my suspicion. I had been too focused on my mate that I hadn't noticed this.

She pressed her body against mine, making sure my chest felt ...