Viscount Wants to Go to the Mill

The Viscount of Aiden, Lily. In her teenage years, she dreamed of someone while pinching her thighs. She wanted to marry a handsome, tall man with defined abs and a deep groove down his back, and live a life where bones and flesh burned with passion. But dreams do not come true. She thought high ideals only existed in fantasy and gave up… But they did exist in the world. The thighs of her ideal type. And the waist. And the inverted triangle shape that continues above. A magnificent body built not by forced workouts for bulk but by practical lean muscles. Surely, surely, the solid erector spinae muscles would carve a groove down his spine. And next to them, the trained latissimus dorsi muscles… Lily quickly lowered her head but couldn’t help but take a peek as saliva almost dripped from her mouth. The large and beautiful shadow cast beneath the shirt. ‘Oh God…’ * Breck thought her gaze was odd. ‘It’s like she’s making an estimate.’ Her eyes were meticulous and cold, like a warrior identifying a stranger’s weak points, yet hot like a blade. When had he seen such eyes before? The orc warlord?