Chapter 14
Zoya
“This dress looks absolutely stunning on you, miss.” The seamstress steps back, admiring her work.
She’s been pinning and adjusting the emerald green gown for the past ten minutes.
I stand on a small platform in front of a full-length mirror, watching the crystals on the bodice catch the light from the chandelier above.
The effect is beautiful, I’ll admit. Sparkles everywhere.
Alexei is lounging on the plush sofa in the corner. He has one arm stretched across the back of it, looking completely relaxed. He’s been watching me try on dresses for an hour without saying a word. His eyes travel over the dress slowly. “Perfect,” he says simply.
Turning slowly, I watch the dress from every angle. It really is beautiful.
“You think so?” The seamstress asks, her face lighting up. She looks ready to cry with joy as she gathers her things, victory in her eyes.
“It’s gorgeous.” He pushes off the sofa and moves toward the platform where I’m standing. “You’ll make every woman jealous, and every man desperate.” He looks up at me with satisfaction as he stops at the edge. “And I’ll be the smug bastard who gets to take you home.”
I tilt my head at him, a small smirk playing on my lips. “Is this you being supportive? I’ve got elephant-level confidence already. I don’t need the motivational speech.”
A grin breaks across his face as he shakes his head. “I’m stating facts. You look stunning.” His hand extends toward me, an invitation to step off the platform. “But fine, I’ll stop inflating your already massive ego. Come down before you float away.”
I accept his hand, stepping down carefully to avoid tripping over the long hem.
“We’ll take it,” Alexei says, never once looking away from me. “And whatever else catches her eye.”
The seamstress claps her hands together.
“Perfect choice. Now, we’ll need to make a few adjustments to ensure the fit is absolutely flawless.
Give me about two hours?” She’s already pulling out her measuring tape and pins to begin the tailoring.
Two hours. I look at Alexei, but he just shrugs like time is an infinite resource he’s happy to spend on me.
“We’ll return in two hours,” Alexei says smoothly, checking his watch. “Make sure it’s perfect.” And then, he turns to me. “Let’s go. There’s plenty nearby to keep us busy.”
Outside, the cold hits immediately, but Alexei’s already walking toward the next shop.
After visiting half a dozen shops, he is practically buried in our purchases.
There are shopping bags from every designer imaginable and boxes stacked precariously in his arms. His guards are positioned strategically at the entrances, exits, and corners, turning a simple shopping trip into a full-scale military operation.
I’m trying my best to stay calm and act like having armed men shadow my every move is perfectly fine.
We end up in a quiet, upscale lingerie boutique tucked between the designer stores. The saleswoman greets us politely, gesturing to the displays with a professional smile.
He picks out several pieces and hands me a hanger with a wicked little smile. “Try this one first.”
It’s a delicate emerald green lace set… and the panties are completely crotchless.
My pulse kicks up as I step into the large fitting room. The heavy curtain has barely fallen shut when Alexei slips inside behind me, filling the small space with his presence.
“You know,” I say, turning to face him with my hands on my hips, “normal boyfriends wait outside.”
“I don’t consider myself your boyfriend, beautiful, I’m your husband.” He leans against the wall, arms crossed, watching me like a predator. “Now put it on. Slowly.”
I turn to face the full-length mirror and slowly peel off my dress, watching his reflection the entire time. His eyes track every inch of exposed skin, darkening when I’m finally standing in just my bra and panties.
“Those too,” he says, nodding at my underwear.
I hook my thumbs into the waistband and slide them down, kicking them aside. The cool air hits my bare pussy and I watch goosebumps rise along my thighs in the mirror.
“Christ,” he mutters under his breath.
I take my time with the emerald green bra, fastening each hook while he watches.
The lace sits perfectly against my skin, barely covering my nipples.
Then I step into the crotchless panties, letting the delicate straps settle high on my hips.
The open crotch leaves my pussy completely exposed, framed by the intricate lace.
“What do you think?” I ask innocently, smoothing my hands over the fabric.
“I think we’re never leaving this fucking store.”
I meet his eyes in the mirror and deliberately run two fingers down my stomach, teasing along the edge of the lace before slipping them between my folds. I’m already wet. I circle my clit slowly, letting out a soft, breathy moan just to fuck with him.
Alexei’s jaw tightens. His hands flex at his sides like he’s physically restraining himself.
“Zoya…” His voice is low, warning.
“Hmm?” I tilt my head, all fake innocence, and push two fingers inside myself. I pump slowly, watching him unravel in the mirror. “Just making sure it fits properly.”
“You’re playing a dangerous game.”
“Am I?” I add a third finger, spreading myself wider, letting him see everything. “Maybe you should come check the fit yourself, Pakhan.”
He’s across the small space in two strides, chest pressed against my back, hard and hot. One big hand clamps over my mouth, muffling the next moan that tries to escape.
“You want everyone in this boutique to hear you?” he growls against my ear, his other hand sliding down to replace my fingers. He circles my clit with rough, practiced strokes. “You want them to know the Pakhan’s girl is getting herself off in a fitting room?”
I nod against his palm, whimpering.
“Dirty girl.” He bites down on my earlobe. “But you’re not coming yet. Not until I say so.”
He pulls his hand away from my pussy and I nearly sob at the loss.
“Alexei—”
“Beautiful,” he interrupts, voice rough with need. “Can you clamp your thighs together for me?”
I blink at his reflection in the mirror, confused. “What?”
“Press your thighs together. Nice and tight.”
“Okay…?” I do as he asks, squeezing my thighs closed.
His hand comes down hard on my ass—a sharp, stinging smack that makes me gasp.
“Alexei!”
Another smack, harder this time. Then another. And another. Four firm strikes that leave my ass burning and my pussy clenching around nothing.
I try to step forward, away from him, but his arm bands around my waist and hauls me back against his chest.
“Now it’s ready for some good fucking,” he growls in my ear, grinding his hard cock against my reddened ass. “But don’t worry, I won’t put it in until you beg me.”
My brain is short-circuiting from the mixture of pain and pleasure radiating through me.
“But before we do this—” He pauses, and suddenly his hand is fisting my hair, tilting my head back so I’m forced to meet his eyes in the mirror.
“Because if I’m fucking your thighs, I’m not gonna be able to control myself.
I will touch your body. Touch you everywhere.
So, beautiful, do I have your permission? ”
I start to nod, but his grip tightens.
“That’s not an answer, beautiful.” His voice drops to a dangerous rumble. “I want you to use your words.”
“Yes,” I breathe, holding his gaze in the mirror. “You have my permission.”
“Good girl.” He releases my hair and pulls the crotchless panties down just as he frees himself.
His cock springs out, thick and leaking, and he slides it between my pressed-together thighs from behind.
The hot length glides right along my soaked pussy lips, the head nudging my clit with every slow thrust.
“Fuck… look at us,” he rasps, forcing me to watch in the mirror. “Look how perfect you are taking me like this.”
His hand clamps back over my mouth as he starts fucking my thighs harder. The wet sounds of my arousal coating his cock are obscenely loud in the quiet fitting room. Every thrust makes the head of his cock bump against my entrance, teasing but never pushing inside, and it’s driving me insane.
“You feel that?” he pants against my neck. “Feel how hard you make me?
I’m shaking, moaning desperately into his palm while I watch his face in the mirror—jaw clenched, eyes wild, completely lost. His free hand comes up to squeeze my breast through the lace, pinching my nipple hard enough to make tears prick my eyes.
“Touch yourself,” he orders, releasing my mouth just long enough to get the words out. “Make yourself come on my cock while I fuck your thighs.”
I reach down between my legs and find my clit, rubbing tight circles while he thrusts between my thighs. The dual sensation—his thick length sliding against my pussy, my own fingers on my clit—has me climbing embarrassingly fast.
“That’s it, beautiful,” he groans, watching my face in the mirror. “Come for me. Show me what’s mine.”
The possessiveness in his voice tips me over. I come hard, my legs shaking, biting down on his palm to muffle my cries. He fucks my thighs faster through my orgasm, hips snapping, rhythm turning desperate and sloppy.
“Fuck I’m gonna come,” he groans against my neck, pulling his hand away from my mouth. “I’m gonna ruin these pretty panties you’re wearing and mark you up so everyone knows—fuck—”
With a low, broken groan he pulls back just enough to aim the head of his cock right at the open crotch of the green lace.
Thick ropes of cum shoot straight into the delicate fabric, spilling over my bare pussy and dripping down my thighs.
He keeps grinding against me through the aftershocks, smearing his release all over the ruined lace and my skin, marking me thoroughly.
“Holy shit,” I breathe, staring at the mess in the mirror.
When he finally pulls back, the emerald green panties are soaked and glistening with his cum. It’s dripping onto the fitting room floor, obscene and filthy and so fucking hot I almost want to go again.