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“Wh-what—please,” she grinds her ass against my erection, but I hold her tighter.
“Not this time. Listen to me. You. Are. Mine. Every time you doubt your worth, or call yourself stupid, or look at yourself with disdain, you’re insulting me personally.”
Her eyes widen, realization sparking like wildfire. Her fingers press hard against the mirror, skin turning white from the pressure.
“I don’t like being insulted, Lucy.”
“Yes, Sir, I mean, no, Sir,” she stammers, “I won’t. I won’t.”
“Good.” I smile and she relaxes so visibly, a lump chokes my throat. “Remember, I’m never going to hurt you in a bad way, Firefly. But you have to afford me the same respect.”
She nods, another tear slipping free. “Can I tell you I’m sorry?”
I can’t help the small laugh that breaks free. “There’s no need, love.”
The word slips out before I can stop it, and I’d bet the entire Saint family fortune both of our hearts stop at the same time.
Rather than say anything about it, I step back and she clears her throat, blistering pink spreading on her cheeks.
“Arms up.”
She complies with much more fluidity to her movements, and I slip a red, satiny gown over her head, letting the fabric fall. Her arms drop to their sides, and I squint an eye while she twists her mouth to the left.
“Not the one, is it, Firefly?”
“No, no way,” she chuckles. “I like that dark green dress, though.”
I slowly glide the dress up her body, making sure it drags against her already sensitive skin. The answering groans are music to my ears, and then she’s naked again, just like she should always be.
I twist and tug the one in question free of the hanger, unzipping it. I crouch behind her, nibbling the back of her thigh. “Step in.”
She does, and I stand, settling the strapless gown around her. She wraps her arm around her waist, holding it in place while I zip it.
An absolute vision. Dark green is definitely her color. As if I didn’t know that.
“Mm. Good eye. I like this one.”
“Yesss, me too!”
“Do you want to try on any more?”
“Mm Mm.” She shakes her head, smoothing her hands down the bodice. “I really want this one.” She does a happy little hop, the flouncy skirt floating a little as she does.
My heart trips over several beats, fireworks setting off in my stomach. I’d buy her twenty thousand dresses like this if it kept her that happy.
“It’s yours.” I spin her, cupping her chin, and kiss her deeply, hooking my other arm around her waist. “I’m yours,” I murmur against her lips.
The mewling sound that leaves her throat this time makes me nearly dizzy. I walk her back a step, pushing her against the mirror, and snake my hand under the skirt.
“You should stay like this,” I say against her jaw as I trail kisses down, teasing her clit again. “Skirts with nothing underneath.”
“Okay,” she whimpers, bucking against my hand. “Whatever you want, Sir.”
I growl against her collarbone and drop to my knees in front of her. Mirroring the same position she took earlier, I shove the skirt up above her waist. “Hold that.”
As soon as she has a grip, I bury my tongue in her wet slit, drinking in her arousal, lightly flicking her clit. She tastes like literal heaven.
“Oh, fuck,” she keens, her thighs trembling. “Yess…”
