The only thing left on her body was her panties.
Hyrin looked at her for a long moment—just looked, the way someone looked at something they'd been extraordinarily patient about and had finally, finally run out of patience for—and then his hand found her waist.
He guided her onto the bed with a quiet firmness that wasn't rough and didn't need to be. Face down. Her palms braced against the sheets. His hand pressed flat against the small of her back, holding her hips exactly where he wanted them, and he left it there until she stopped shifting.
"I've wanted to do this," he said, his voice dropping to something low and unhurried that she felt more than heard, his free hand moving slowly over the curve of her ass like he was taking inventory of something that belonged to him, "since the very first time I saw you."
The pause before his palm came down was just long enough to be deliberate.
