Altair didn't question it. He turned around obediently.
Ren was immediately presented with a sprawling canvas of smooth, golden-tan skin stretched over wide, incredibly muscular shoulders, a broad back, and a very firm, perfectly sculpted ass.
Ren's gaze dropped. She stared at his ass for just a moment. Or maybe two moments. It was the kind of rear end that marble statues aspired to have—tight, lifted, and utterly flawless.
'I am looking respectfully,' Ren lied to herself.
She stepped forward, the thick leather cord of the loincloth gripped in her trembling hands. She reached around his waist, her arms circling his hard torso.
She held her breath. She had to be precise. She had to pull the front flap of the leather up and secure the cords without actually touching the massive, straining erection that was currently pointing directly northward from the other side. It was like playing a high-stakes game of Operation, but instead of a buzzer, the penalty was dying of embarrassment.
