Then she spun me toward the mirror.
“Look at yourself.”
I did.
And gasped.
My reflection was filthy.
My cheeks were flushed. My lips pink and slightly parted. My chest was flushed. My thighs were wet. Shiny with leftover slick that hadn’t dried from the bathroom floor.
I couldn’t even look at my own eyes.
They looked f****d.
Hungry.
Destroyed.
Tasha grabbed the mesh dress from the bed and stepped up behind me.
“Arms up.”
Lobeyed.
She slipped it over my head. Pulled it down my body inch by inch, smoothing it over my curves.
The mesh clung like it was painted on.
Every curve.
Every n****e.
Every twitch of my hips.
The velvet straps cupped my t**s without covering them. The material dragged along my waist, pulled tight across my hips, and stopped just barely over the swell of my cunt.
I didn’t even feel dressed.
Ruin And Desire
I felt marked.
Tasha stood back.
“Jesus,” she whispered.
“You look like a virgin sacrifice.”
I couldn’t speak.
She grabbed the heels. Silver. Shiny. High as hell.
“Step in.”
I did.
She crouched and strapped them around my ankles, her fingers brushing my calves like she was handling a porcelain doll.
Then she stood and grabbed a gloss tube.
It was a pink, we all t and glittering gloss.
She twisted it open and leaned in, dragging the wand across my bottom lip.
“Lick your lips.”
I did.
She stared at me in the mirror.
“You’re a f*****g wet dream.”
Hooked.
And she was right.
The dress showed everything.
My n*****s. My belly. My thighs. The faint streak of arousal still clinging to my skin.
My legs trembled.
My chest ached.
I looked like I’d been touched, teased, left on edge, and then dressed up in it.
Tasha grinned.
“You’re going to make him break.”
I turned toward her.
“Who?”
She smirked.
“Whoever’s dumb enough to think they can have you.”
I blinked.
Swallowed.
Didn’t answer.
Because I already knew.
There was only one man I wanted to break for me.
And he already had.
Ruin And Desire
“Let’s go,”
Tasha said, tugging my wrist.
“We’re gonna be late. You know Angel’s already snapping pictures
I could barely walk.
My legs weren’t working. My thighs were wet. But she was already yanking me down the hallway, heels clacking against the floor as she practically skipped.
I followed like I wasn’t real.
Like I was floating.
Like I didn’t still taste his c**k on my lips.
We turned the corner into the living room and I stopped breathing.
“Daddy!” she called out.
“Daddy!”
My stomach flipped.
My knees buckled.
He was standing near the bar. Shirtless.
Glass of whiskey in one hand. Sweatpants slung low on his hips. Chest broad. Abs sharp as f**k. Tattoos licking up one arm and disappearing across his collarbone.
He turned slowly.
Looked over his shoulder at the sound of her voice.
And the moment I saw his face..his mouth, his jaw, his f*****g eyes..
I couldn’t f*****g handle it. f**k.
Fuuuck.
“How do we look?”
Tasha asked sweetly, dragging me forward like I was a doll on display.
Damon didn’t answer.
His eyes dropped.
His gaze devoured me.
Started at my ankles.
Crawled up the silver heels.
Paused at my thighs.
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.