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She is wearing light makeup just enough to highlight her natural beauty. Her eyes look larger, and the green in them brighter. Her already full lips are tinted pink, and her flawless tanned skin is even smoother. Her hair falls off her shoulders in dark silky waves, and I have the urge to run my fingers through the locks just to see how soft they really are. I want to tug on the strands, wrapping them around my hand as I… shit, I can’t think about that right now. There is no room in this suit for my cock to get hard.
My gaze drops lower to her perfectly sculpted body, a body that is on full display in the dress I’m making her wear. It’s an emerald green gown that matches her eye color to a T. The dress has no straps, her tits being held in place by a built-in bustier that gives the swell of her breasts a nice push, though she doesn’t need it.
The rest of the dress is form-fitting around her waist and down her legs, but the best part of this dress is that both sides along her ribs and outer thighs are made of a sheer material. A thicker fabric covers her front and back in an hourglass-shaped, which only highlights the shape of her body. But since the sides are see-through, everyone will know that she’s not wearing anything beneath.
As if she can read my mind, she pins me with a stare.
“What are the chances that you’ll let me at least put some underwear on?”
“None,” I grit out.
The frown on her face only deepens, but I already know she doesn’t want to do this. I remember the night I took her and how self-conscious she was about the nightgown.
What she’s wearing now is even more revealing. I can tell simply from the look on her face and how she wraps her arms around her middle that she is uncomfortable, but I can’t help that. She’s gonna have to deal with it for one night. She’ll survive.
The real question is, will I survive? Am I going to be able to stand by and let other men look at what’s mine? Gawk and salivate over her like she’s a damn T-bone steak.
I suppose I’ll have to if I want to prove a point to her father, though it’s not going to happen without serious restraint. The first asshole that asks me if she’s for sale, or to spend a couple hours with her is going to get a knife in their chest. I don’t share what is mine.
I watch as Elena slips into her high heel sandals, steadying herself on the doorframe.
“I’m going to warn you, I’m not great at walking in heels.”
Her warning makes me smile. “Don’t worry, I’ll be holding your hand the whole night. But... before we go, I have something for you.”
“Is it a jacket? ’Cause I would love that.”
“No, it’s not a jacket, but don’t worry, I’ll keep you warm. It’s this.” I pull out the black velvet box from my pocket and flip it open. It’s a white gold diamond necklace that I hand-picked for this occasion. As expected, her mouth pops open, and her eyes widen, but I’m not sure if it’s with surprise or something else.
“You like it?”
“Is that… a necklace or a collar?”
“It’s a choker necklace, but if you’d rather think of it as a collar, we can make that happen. Would you like me to get a leash with it? Diamond studded, maybe?” I smirk like an asshole.
Shaking her head, she holds out her hand like she is going to grab it from me. “Fine. I’ll wear it.”
“Allow me.”
She drops her hands and lifts up her chin waiting for me to move. I grab the choker out of the box and undo the clasp. As I lay it around her slender neck, I drag my fingers along her collarbone on purpose, loving how her whole body shivers under my touch. I wish I could do this all night long, but there are more important things to do.
The clasp clicks in place, and I take a step back to examine my work. The necklace fits perfectly around her slender neck like it’s meant to be there. She looks claimed and cared for, maybe a little too cared for. I doubt her father will look that far into it, though, not when he sees her in the barely-there dress.
“Perfect,” I tell her, holding out my hand. She takes it, almost trustingly as I walk her out of the room. I walk her through the house, making sure I don’t move too fast. She wasn’t kidding, she can’t walk in these stripper heels for shit.
I’m considering picking her up and carrying her to the car, but it’s not like I can carry her around the party. I mean, I could, but then no one would get the full effect of the dress or lack of it. As soon as we step outside, a gust of cold wind rushes over us, and Elena wraps her free arm around herself, clearly freezing. She makes it to the car in one piece, but not without having an iron grip on my hand to steady herself. I definitely won’t have to worry about her running off in those heels. I pull her into my side and help her into the backseat of the car before sliding in beside her.
