HEMLOCK THE HANDSOME WAS IN A LIGHT HAZE as he stood in the bedchamber of the Newlyweds. Nyla had a seductive smile playing on her lips, one that she surprisingly didn't need to force. The woman herself was something to reckon with.
A force of beauty.
Razill regarded Hemlock with an amused grin—one that Hemlock recognized. He himself had reserved such look for the many pretty girls he'd met in his lifetime. It was almost hilarious that now he was the one on the receiving end of such look.
"I daresay Hemlock stumbled into the right bedroom, don't you, love?" Nyla chirped to her husband. Her hands trailed his broad chest.
Razill gave no reply. His smile only remained with his dark, wicked eyes on Hemlock, gazing at the young man like a Goldsmith would regard a merchant waving golden bangles. The huge Mithosian stood completely naked and towering with ripped pecs on full display.
