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She regards me with a coy smile from underneath her batting eyelashes, when she comes to a halt in front of me.
“I like this one better,” she admits, her fingertips trailing along the fabric of the skirt until they reach the hem. It’s a bit short for formal outings, but it looks so fucking delicious on her that we’ll buy it anyway.
There are other places where she could wear it.
In my bedroom for example.
“What do you think?”
I think that this dress will end up ripped apart on my bedroom floor one day, after I’ve torn it from your exquisite body.
“It looks good on you,” I say, pointedly taking in the sight of her. “Great actually.”
The smile on her face widens.
“It’s not too short?”she probes, looking downather long legs. She’s walking around barefoot, reminding me that we’ll have to get her some decent shoes, too.
I can only imagine what this skirt must look like in heels. The thought alone makes my cock twitch with urgency.
Fuck, I didn’t expect this to turn into such torture.
“We’ll find good use for it,” I tell her, relishing the nervous flicker in her eyes when she looks at me.
“Next,” I say, mostly to get her out of my sight. I need to calm the fuck down, and we still have a lot of stores to hit.
She tries on a few more crepe de chineshirts and matching skirts, and with each outfit, her face grow a little less tense and strained. I even notice the hint of a smile when she parades around in a new pair of stilettos and a peplum dress, the last outfit of the day. She moves differently, too. Her shoulders are no longer pulled up to her ears, her stance is upright and her steps wider and carried with a lot more confidence.
“Not that bad after all, huh,” I comment, when she’s about to walk back to the dressing room to change back into her current clothes.
She looks back at me over her shoulder and throws me a sassy smile. “Told you I’d make it work.”
I respond with a dismissive huff and shake my head. This sass will get her into more trouble than she’s aware of.
“Let’s wrap this up,” I tell Susan, circling my hand in the air as I turn around to her. She nods and happily proceeds to pack our numerous purchases up.
I notice Kat swallowing when the cashier announces the sum and I take out one of my cards without even thinking about it. I’m sure it must be a lot of money to her, probably more than she has ever spent on clothes in her entire life.
“It’s crazy to pay this much money for clothes,” she murmurs when we leave the store.
“Not when you have it,” I tell her—and she scoffs.
Christopher has been waiting for us outside, and takes the bags out of our hands as soon as he spots us.
“Where to next, sir?”he asks, as he opens the trunk to put them away.
“Cartier,” I tell him.
Kat throws me a quizzical look, while I open the door for her.
“Please,” I gesture for her to get in the car, but instead of following my lead, she remains where she’s standing, her gaze fixed on the open door as if she was staring down into a black hole.
“We don’t have all day,” I urge.
She responds with a quick nod and climbs into the car, moving cautiously, like she always does when she’s around anything that belongs to me.
“Cartier?” Kat asks, once I’m seated next to her.
“You need a ring, don’t you?”
