Jax's hands, which had been moving to remove her of her clothes, suddenly stopped.
Instead, he pushed himself up, his golden eyes never leaving hers. He moved from the edge of the bed to its center, settling against the pile of black and crimson silk pillows with an air of absolute, regal authority. He was a king on his throne, and the bed was his dominion.
"Stand up," he commanded, his voice a low, calm rumble that vibrated through the chamber as he stared at Astra directly into her beautiful violet eyes.
Astra, her heart hammering against her ribs, obeyed. She slid off the silks, her bare feet silent on the cool stone floor. She stood before him, bathed in the dim, atmospheric light of his room, feeling more exposed and vulnerable than she had ever felt in her life, even in the heat of battle.
