Eros's hands slid lower, gripping the generous curve of her ass through the thin runed fabric. The cloth was enchanted to cling, to move with the body rather than restrict it, and right now it felt like almost nothing at all. He squeezed—firm, deliberate—feeling the plush weight fill his palms, the way her caramel skin warmed under his touch even through the layer. Xena exhaled against his neck, a small, involuntary sound that told him everything.
"Still teasing me after all this time?" she whispered, voice husky, hips pressing forward to grind against him. "You know exactly what this ass does to you."
He smirked, dark eyes glinting in the low light. "I designed the robes, remember? I know every inch they're supposed to show off." His fingers dug in deeper, spreading her slightly, letting her feel the strength in his grip. "And I know exactly how long you've been walking around with it on display, making me wait."
