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Chapter 81: Traditions Of Desire
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Chapter 83: Queendom’s Trump Card
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... ing a hand along his jaw. It was perfectly smooth and clean-shaven.
No stubble, no shadow—nothing. He frowned slightly, tilting his head to inspect his upper lip. "Still no mustache," he muttered, a mix of amusement and disappointment in his voice.
He couldn’t help the thought. A stupid, lingering vanity from his past life.
For the second time, he ran a hand over his clean-shaven jaw, the smooth skin a constant reminder of his boyish, almost feminine features. Sometimes, ...
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