"Where is your bedroom?" Tianlong said. His lips — still against her neck — formed the words. The breath was warm on her skin.
She trembled. Her hands — gripping the crimson rope at his waist — tightened. Her knuckles were white.
"The — the inner chambers," she whispered. Her refined voice was barely a breath. "Past the garden. The — the jade door."
He lifted her. His arms — large, strong, the muscles defined beneath the golden skin — scooped her slender body from the floor. Her legs — long, pale, the silk robes bunched at her hips — dangled over his arm. Her obsidian hair hung. Her torn robes — the outer layer gone, the inner layers hanging from her shoulders — exposed her right breast, the pink nipple raw and bitten.
