-Mayla-
Tylon moved around me methodically, helping me into a shirt, pants, and armor. I’d never worn anything like this before, but he was insistent that if I wanted to join him, I had to be properly equipped.
I didn’t complain. Instead, I let him fasten the metal plates—first on one arm, then the other. As he brushed my hair away and pressed his warm lips against my neck, I leaned back, letting out a soft moan.
“How am I supposed to get dressed with you being so distracting?” I asked.
“Don’t worry,” he replied in a low, husky voice. “I’ll make sure you’re ready.”
His words sent a shiver down my spine, but he managed to pull away and continue fitting a small breastplate over the top part of my upper body.
“There we go,” he said, giving the breastplate a final adjustment to ensure
