Page 35 of Plus-Size Bratva Possession
“Your wife, sir?” She cocked an eyebrow at my entitlement. I chided myself for my error. This wasn’t one of my regular haunts. I showed her a picture.
“Ah, yes. Ms. Elena, please, right this way. She’s trying on evening wear,” she led me to a curtain and motioned for me to go right through towards the private trial rooms, and then left me to my devices.
I frowned at the total lack of security. I could have been anyone. I had half the mind to pull the store assistant by her boots, but my need to see Elena surpassed my annoyance at their lacking security measures.
I paused outside the curtain she'd indicated. I was about to call out to Elena when I heard her voice, muttering to herself.
“Too much skin? Not enough? God, I don't know anymore.”
I smiled despite myself.
It was sort of cute to know that Elena talked to herself when confused. Gently, I parted the curtains so as not to startle her and stopped dead when I saw her.
Holy fuck.
My brain short-circuited.
There she stood, a complete vision in sequinned black. The dress, a sleeveless little item cut low down her back, drew my eyes to what lay beneath. Her ass, I thought to myself witha watering mouth, screamed Pinch me. She looked at herself in the mirror, adjusting the dress that clung to her every curve like water. And that length dropped inches down her thighs. Just inches.
She turned to face me, but didn’t notice me since she had her head thrown back to check out another angle in the mirror, and that’s when I saw the front properly. The dress was tight around her chest before flaring out from her ribs. So damn tight that her breasts pooled on top, showing a swell that gave me such nasty, dirty thoughts that I was forced to take a step back.
Accidentally, I slammed into the wall.
Elena whirled towards me, distracted by the sound. The way she moved, giving me a full view of how her hips swirled when she did, caused my cock to instantly swell against my will. I tried to hold back a groan as her eyes widened at the sight of me.
“Gastone? What? How ?” she gasped, clutching her dress in panic, trying to pull it down before deciding otherwise and reaching to cover her chest with her hands. My eyes travelled to her hands, dangerously close to her breasts, and I forced myself to look back at her face. She seemed flustered by my presence, a slight flush creeping up her neck.
“Surprise,” I let out a half-smile. “Dom had to go somewhere else, and I was free.”
Fuck, how was I supposed to ignore how incredibly sexy she looked? I was only supposed to surprise her, yet it was she who surprised me. Elena wasn't supposed to make my mouth go dry just by standing there.
She smoothed her hands down her sides at last, having collected herself, and I watched as she bit her lower lip, a gesture of uncertainty that shouldn't have been as erotic as it was. “Hm,”she said to her reflection, making no issue that I was here, thank the lords. “Maybe it's too much after all.”
“Depends on where you're planning to wear it,” I said, stepping inside wholly now. I let my gaze drift over her again, slowly, deliberately. “That's quite a dress.”
She lifted her chin, some of her usual defiance returning. “It's just a dress.”
“It's a statement,” I corrected. “And I'm curious what you're hoping to say with it.”
She hesitated, her eyes moving between me and her reflection in the mirror. “If you must know, I'm going out tonight.”
Something inside me tightened. “Out where?”
“Just... out. To a club.” She shrugged, the movement causing the neckline of the dress to shift slightly, revealing more of her cleavage. “I need to blow off some steam. Dance a little. Have a good time.”
The image of Elena in that dress, surrounded by men, dancing with her body pressed against some stranger, hit me like a physical blow. I had no right to feel this possessive, this jealous, but the emotion roared through me anyway, hot and true.
“You want to wear that to a club?” I barked, a little too aggressively.
She looked at me with surprise, and then shame. Immediately, I felt like a fool.
“It is too much for me, isn’t it?”
I hated that I allowed myself to convey the entirely wrong message. The truth was that she in that dress only spelledtrouble. Elena couldn’t see it, could she? How sexy she looked, how mouthwatering. I knew how the men at the clubs she visited thought. They were the kind to think she was game dressed like that, the kind to lay their hands all over her at the sight of her.
But by the way I’d questioned her, I’d let her think the dress didn’t suit her. I attacked her confidence.
Needing to clarify, I strode up to and stood beside her as she pondered at the reflection in the mirror.
