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“Cailian,” Nyx yells across the room, no doubt feeling the sexual tension in the bond.
Even the way Nyx sits has my heart thrumming like a hummingbird’s wings. His legs are spread, arms draped over the back, and he’s watching us intently, an air of danger surrounding him that pulls us closer.
Cailian and I both head to him as if he is a magnet and we have no choice but to follow the force. His gaze is dark, trailing overCailian and I slowly as if he is undressing us with his mind. The bond is electric, firing back and forth with so much desire I can barely breathe. The lust is drowning my lungs, suffocating me softly.
But what a way to go.
My dress falls from me and Nyx’s nostrils flare when he sees me.
“You better make this quick, clothsmith,” he says. “The longer I see them naked, the more I want them.”
“Oh, stop acting like an adolescent dragon. Get yourself together.” She waves him away dismissively. She unlocks her trunk and on top of the silks, she snags her tape measure. “Lift your arms, please.”
I do as she says, never taking my eyes from Nyx. He bites his bottom lip, cocks his head, and gives it a slight shake as if he can’t believe what he is seeing.
Cailian takes a seat next to him, rubbing his hand down Nyx’s leg only to stroke Nyx’s hard cock.
“This is the worst kind of foreplay,” Nyx mumbles, readjusting his cock in his pants.
“Arms down,” she demands and to my shock, they fall to my sides as if forced.
“What—”
“—It is clothsmith magic. Not many have it,” Nyx explains. “She is one of the few, minus her granddaughter, Gwelyn. She’s too young to take over for her grandmother, but she will one day.”
“Clothsmith magic is only hereditary. No one knows who will get it, but my line has been successful.” She wraps the tape measurer around my chest, down my arms, my stomach, legs, and even my neck.
The measurements don’t take long at all.
“Excellent. I believe a shade of purple would look wonderful on you.” She digs through her trunk of treasures, pulling out a beautiful lavender sheet. “Yes, yes, this one.”
The clothsmith moves quickly as if she has vampire speed.
“It is part of their magic,” Nyx explains. “It is why they can produce clothes so fast. They get the measurements and—” he snaps his fingers. “Bam, just like that you have a dress.”
A few minutes later, the whirlwind stops.
Her silver hair is kindling with flames before it regrows.
“They sew the material with their hair. Their hair is the thread, once it is sewn, the thread disappears.” Nyx stands, drifting his finger across the hem. “Watch.”
The stitches blend themselves into the gown. I touch it, astounded, and look at myself in the reflection.
“How do I get out of it then?”
“The zipper in the back. What am I, stupid?” The clothsmith busies herself with making sure the belt across my hips is just right. She takes her claw and cuts the neckline a bit lower before she is happy. “There. Now look.” She guides me to the mirror, and I’m stunned.
“Oh my gosh. This is… this is beautiful.” I run my hands down my waist. The dress makes my eyes and hair seem brighter. The dress stops at my ankles and there is a high slit that goes to my thigh, showing off my long legs.
“Made for a Princess,” she says, right before shoving me to the couch. “Okay, yes. You’re lovely.” She snaps her fingers at Cailian. “Prince Cailian. Please, will you stand… just here.” She points to the middle of the floor. “And undress please.”
Nyx tucks me to his side. “Don’t mind her. They like to get their jobs done.”
“I don’t mind,” I say, snuggling against his side. “Do you like the dress?”
“I’ll like it more when I get to rip it from your body and use it to bind your wrists together, but yes, I love it. You look beautiful.”
“Nyx,” I giggle, hiding my face in his chest.
