Page 35 of Yours

The blush spread from my cheeks to my neck, my entire body burning as I imagined what I’d look like wearing something like this. Worse, I couldn’t stop the treacherous thought that flickered through my mind:Ronan picked these.

I shook my head, tossing the scrap of lace onto the bed and quickly reaching for the gown. The fabric slid over my skin like water, soft and smooth, hugging my curves in a way that felt both indulgent and infuriating. I slipped into the heels, the small lift making me feel taller, more poised.

But my eyes kept drifting back to the panties.

With a groan, I snatched them off the bed and marched toward the living room, the fabric clutched tightly in my hand. My heels clicked against the hardwood as I entered the open space, my frustration bubbling over as I spotted Ronan near the windows, his back to me as he stared out at the city skyline.

“Ronan,” I said abruptly, my voice carrying more anger than I’d intended.

He turned, his dark eyes sweeping over me in one slow, deliberate glance. The faintest smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, and I felt the heat in my cheeks flare even hotter.

I held up the lacy panties, my hand trembling slightly.

“I can’t wear these.”

He stepped closer, his presence as commanding as ever, and I hated how my pulse quickened as he reached out to take the fabric from my hand. His fingers brushed mine briefly, and I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from reacting.

“You don’t have to wear them if you don’t want to,” he said calmly.

The simplicity of his response caught me off guard, and I blinked up at him, my anger faltering slightly.

“I… what?”

He tilted his head slightly, his gaze steady. “I said you don’t have to wear them. It’s your choice, love.”

My breath hitched, and I swallowed hard, my fingers curling into fists at my sides. I watched as he tucked the sheer fabric into his pocket, and I realized that there weren’t going to be any other options.

I wasn’t going to be wearing anything under my dress tonight.

CHAPTER 12

Ronan

Even though I’d already come twice tonight, the thought of her sweet little pussy bare under her dress made my cock hard as a rock.

She was fire wrapped in silk, and she didn’t even know it.

Kiera stood there, her green eyes blazing with a mix of defiance and embarrassment as she glared at me. The deep emerald gown clung to her curves, highlighting every dip and slope, every inch of her that I’d spent too long pretending I didn’t notice. The fabric shimmered faintly under the warm light, its color a perfect match for the fiery red waves that framed her face.

Her cheeks were still flushed, a pretty pink that only made her eyes seem brighter. Her posture was as stiff as ever, her arms crossed over her chest in a way that only made me smirk.

She hated how vulnerable she felt, and she hated that I could see it.

Good.

I let my gaze drift, taking my time. The curve of her hips, the way the fitted bodice of the dress emphasized her waist, the faint swell of her breasts where the neckline dipped just low enough to tempt me. Everything about her demanded attention—her body, her defiance, her pride—and I wasn’t sorry for taking it all in.

Not one bit.

Kiera shifted under my scrutiny, her hands tightening against her arms. “You’re staring,” she said sharply, her voice cutting through the quiet.

“I am,” I said simply, letting my smirk deepen.

Her jaw tightened, but she didn’t argue. She knew there was no point.

“Come,” I said, stepping closer and offering her my arm. “We have things to discuss.”

Her eyes flicked to my outstretched arm, her lips parting slightly as if to argue. But after a moment’s hesitation, she let out a frustrated sigh and slipped her hand into the crook of my elbow.

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