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“Because Valentine, despite his lack of morals, appreciates the finer things in life.”
“How is a corset one of the finer things in life?” I scoff.
“It’s not about the corset.”
I want to scream in frustration. Why is he being so obtuse?
“Then what is it about?”
“It’s about the woman who still wears one. The harder it is to get to you, the more likely he is to savor his time with you.”
“I thought I was supposed to be seducing him, not leading him on; but the more time I spend with the three of you, the more I’m starting to think you don’t actually intend for me to seduce him at all.”
Luci yanks the strings of the corset hard at this, and I can’t help but gasp as the air is forced from my lungs.
“I don’t think you quite understand what it means to seduce someone,” Luci says, tugging at the strings until I’m sure he’s about to snap my ribs in two. “Seduction isn’t necessarily synonymous with sex.”
“So, let me get this straight. You want me to woo him into a state of desire, without actually allowing him to touch me.”
“More or less,” Luci says, wrapping the strings around my waist. “I think we’d all be fools to think Valentine won’t touch you, but there are ways to keep him from becoming bedding you too soon.”
“And that’s what all this training is really for,” I say. “Why are you so scared of letting him touch me?”
Luci lets out a frustrated sigh before spinning me around to face him.
“Because he’ll lose interest in you the moment he’s taken you to bed. Trust me, you don’t that to happen.”
“Why not?”
“I told you, you’ll have to ask Dante about it.”
“I’m asking you. Please, Luci.”
Luci’s jaw tightens, and for a moment I think he’s actually going to tell me something, but then he turns back to the bed to grab the dress he chose earlier.
“Arms.”
I oblige, although begrudgingly as he pulls the dress down over my head and adjusts it around me in silence. I look down at myself as he once again has me turn away from him so that he can lace me in.
The dress is a pale blue with a sweetheart neckline that falls nearly to my ankles. It’s not exactly the kind of thing I’m used to seeing people wear, but at least it isn’t quite 18thcentury garb either. I can’t say I wasn’t worried once I’d realized the corset was a true structural piece rather than just for show.
“It’s pretty,” I say, breaking the growing silence.
“Walk. Let me see how you carry yourself.”
I take a tentative step forward and then another. As I move, the length of my legs suddenly peeks through the fabric and realize there’s a slit in the skirt of the dress that reaches all the way to my mid-thigh.
Huh, I wasn’t expecting that, but I think I’m starting to get what they’retryingto teach me. Whether it’s about my clothes or behavior … even fighting. I need to exude some kind of hidden, mysterious allure.
I spin around, allowing the skirts of the dress to float in the air for a moment before twisting around my legs in soft waves of fabric. I’m almost instantly out of breath, and have to steady myself against the nearby bedpost.
“I think you laced it a bit tight,” I say, glancing up at Luci.
“No, you just need to get used to it.”
“I can hardly breathe, Luci.”
“I know, but you have the right shape.”
