“An experiment?”
Mike’s question pulled her from her musings.
Sighing, she tugged the gown over her hips and fastened the three hooks at the back. “Yes, an experiment. I wanted to see how this material would drape. What kind of tucks and folds could be a natural part of the fabric and which ones would have to be constructed by stitching.” She adjusted the swath of satin that swept around from the back to cross over her breasts, then drape over her shoulders in a soft U shape along her back. Reaching beneath her skirt, she slipped off the panties she wore since the design of the front and back of the skirt didn’t allow for undergarments.
Her fingers rubbed the soft fabric again, and her mind wandered, conjuring images of what might happen if she revealed
her
secret. Though it had been over a week, Lyssa was coming to see that Ben and Vance were right. Mike had a right to know about the baby she’d lost four years earlier. The voice inside her that argued against it hissed that since there was nothing he could do about it now, nothing either of them could have done about it when it had happened, there was no point in telling him. The submissive inside her urged her to cede all control to Mike. To let him know everything in order to determine how best to protect and heal her.
Telling him might actually drive him away and, reluctant as she was to admit it, the thought of Mike actually turning his back on her again hurt. Even more than she’d realized.
“Lyssa? You okay back there?” Mike called out.
The clear plastic strap securing the bodice stretched from the outside edges of the crossed panels of satin and across her back, right below her shoulder blades. She fumbled with it as she assured him, “I’m fine.”
Built into the top were lightly padded underwire cups. The dress fit perfectly, with the skirt riding the top edge of her hips before dipping into a wide v-shape in the front and back. Gathered fabric along the skirt yoke repeated the crisscross design of the bodice at the center front and back of the skirt. At the intersection, a cluster of pearls and clear crystals formed a small rose design, with short strands dangling beneath the flower. Rows of strung pearls and crystals winked in the folds of the bodice and skirt sash.
“Come on.”
Adjusting her breasts so they settled more comfortably in the cups sewn into the bodice, she blew out her breath and stepped out from behind the screen. “I swear, Halsey, if you laugh, I’ll slap you.” The threat was weak and she knew it, but considering how much she’d dreamed of using this gown to capture his attention, she wasn’t sure what she’d do if he made an amusing remark about it.
Heat suffused her cheeks as she watched the play of emotions flicker across his face when he caught sight of her for the first time.
Steal his breath didn’t even come close to explaining what seeing her in that dress did to him. “You’re wearing that when we get married, Lyssa.” The idea of her wearing the dress when she married anyone other than him went against Mike’s every instinct.
She laughed and shook her head. “I don’t think so. By the time you get ready to settle down, I’ll be in a retirement home, kid.”
“Ready to retire already, are you, love?” Mike retorted. “Either that or you have me confused with my brother.”
Lyssa’s expression grew befuddled. “How so?”
“I won’t be waiting until I’m forty to tie the knot. Once you realize I’m not walking away and that I’m not letting you walk away, I won’t be wasting any time. I’ll be getting you properly married to me with a baby on the way. Now step a little closer.” Mike wondered if the sudden flush in her cheeks had actually happened or was simply wishful thinking on his part.
“Said the spider to the fly.” Her gaze held his as she moved across the room to him, the skirt of the dress carefully gathered up to keep from dragging on the ground.
“And what a yummy fly you are, pet.” Teasing her seemed the safer solution. If he gave in to the heat suffusing his body after his first sight of her, he’d never get the photos done. Although the way she looked and the design of her gown perfectly suited the role-play theme he’d devised.
Motioning with his finger, he directed her to make a single turn so he could see the dress from all sides. His cock pressed against his zipper, making him doubt the sense in changing into the black leather pants and losing the roomier fit of his comfortable jeans.
If sexy and unattainable were the criteria for this gown, she’d done it. The contrast of silky, lightly tanned skin against lustrous white satin left him wondering where to look next. The skirt in both back and front dropped from the top of her hips on the sides down into a wide V. In the back, it dipped just enough to expose the twin dimples at the base of her spine, with the tip of the V practically pointed at the crease separating her bottom. The scoop created by the extra satin from the bodice swayed teasingly above it and tempted a man to move it aside for a longer look. In front, the V was the perfect frame for her tattoo. The edges skimmed the haunches and claws of her dragon, while the small pearl accent drew the eye to the sexy flesh hidden behind the cloth.
He didn’t have to ask if she wore panties; there was no way she could. That fit perfectly within his plans for the outcome of this lesson. He’d ease her into play first.
“Here, we’ll start with a few to show off the design.” Leading her to one of the horseshoe chairs, he stepped back, picked up his camera, and sighted through the viewfinder. “Hands down, Lys. Don’t hide that gorgeous tat.” He waited for her to drop her hands before pressing the button. The camera whirred and his body ached. She’d have to grow used to the camera being turned on her, just as her sister eventually learned that Bryce was never without paper and pencil when the mood to sketch struck.
She looked stiff, uncomfortable. He needed her to relax and pretend the camera wasn’t in his hands. “So what made you decide to design wedding dresses?” he asked, his tone casual as he pressed the button and the digital camera whirred. A simple discussion between them as he moved around to try various angles.
“A few friends of Bryce’s approach me after Mattie’s wedding,” Lyssa told him.
“Okay, turn around. I want to get some shots of the back of the dress.” Mike set aside his camera and assisted her with her next pose. Kneeling in the chair, arms draped along the curved back, her cheek rested on her arms to display the provocative exposure of her spine, he stroked his fingers along the silky skin of her back. She arched beneath his touch; a sigh slipped free of her lips as he pressed a kiss to her nape.
“Have to admit, her dress was unlike any wedding dress I’ve seen before or since,” Mike admitted, his tone impressed.
Recomposing herself, Lyssa shrugged. “I believe every bride should look not only beautiful but sexy on her wedding day.”
Mike chuckled. “I know Bryce’s mind was more on the wedding night than the reception.”
Lyssa laughed, her face heating at the memory of her brother-in-law’s determination to send off the wedding guests long before the festivities had wound down. She eased up in the chair. “He was rather focused, wasn’t he?”
“Definitely. Come on over here to the bed,” Mike directed her. He set his camera aside to smooth the slight creases in the skirt. “I don’t think a single man there blamed him.”
Lyssa actually stopped and looked closely at him as she settled one hand around the thick post of the antique bed. “Even you?”
Mike held her gaze for a moment. “To be honest, I was having my own share of fantasies at the time.” Behind one of the cameras mounted on a tripod, he adjusted the focus and angle. “But none of them centered around Mattie.”
“Oh?” Lyssa watched him carefully.
“Let’s just say the dress you wore that day conjured some wishful thinking,” he admitted as he moved to one of the cameras on a tripod. Lining up the shot, he pressed the button and listened to the autotimer engage.
“Really?”
Mike smiled at her and moved on to a second camera. He knew her body accepted what he could make her feel; he needed her mind to trust the feelings in her heart. “Oh yeah. I had a few fantasies of dragging you off.”
He adjusted the focus on the second camera and started the automatic photo function before stepping over to the third tripod. “When you were a little girl, did you ever pretend to be a princess?”
A soft smile lifted her lips. “After Mattie started school and we could play together there.” Shadows entered her eyes. “We weren’t allowed outside very often.”
Silently cursing her bastard of a father, Mike wouldn’t allow her to dwell on the unhappy times of her childhood. He held her gaze, kept his emotions shackled, locked down. “What adventures did Princess Lyssa have?” he teased.
A blush heated Lyssa’s cheeks when Mike looked through the viewfinder of the fourth camera. He pressed the button, then moved around it toward her. “Tell me, pet,” he coaxed. “Was Princess Lyssa a naughty young lady who needed rescuing by a handsome prince?”
“Yes. No. I-It was just a game,” she stammered, avoiding his gaze.
“Tell me your game.” His tone didn’t allow for misdirection. Based on the look in her eyes, and the way her left hand dropped to absently stroke the tattoo on her belly, Mike suspected that even as a young girl on the edge of puberty, Lyssa had imagined scenes of an unusual nature.
Defiance gleamed in her eyes as she scowled up at him. “Mattie and I would play catch the dragon.”
“Ah, and did you catch the dragon?” he asked. Before she could answer, he leaned forward and whispered in her ear, “Or did the dragon capture you?” A zing of triumph shot through him as he watched her tremble, the gooseflesh rising along her neck, arms, and down her back.
He stepped away and lifted the camera he’d set on the table. “Take down your hair for me, pet.” He lifted the camera. The click and whir of the shutter blended with the sounds from the other cameras around the room.
For a moment she was confused. “I thought you wanted me to wear it up?”
“I’ve changed my mind.” Mike didn’t elaborate, merely waited for her to comply.
Cognizant of the subdued lighting and the cameras surrounding her, she raised her hands and tugged the ivory hair sticks free, then removed the few hairpins she’d used to secure the French roll. Mike held his hand out for the items and set them on the table between the chairs. The soft waves brushed her shoulders and tickled her back as she pushed her fingers through her hair.
“In your game, how did the princess catch the dragon?”
Lyssa smiled as she recalled the adventures she and her sister and occasionally some of their friends had entertained themselves with at school. “It depended on the type of dragon we went after.” The bag of colored stones and glass beads they’d used to determine the dragon was still somewhere in her house. “The person playing the dragon would pick the color from a bag of colored stones and glass beads Mattie and I had collected.”
“So what types of dragons did you and Mattie catch?” He moved around the bed to one of the nightstands flanking it.
“White and gold dragons were easy to persuade to help in battles against evil princes and wizards trying to take over the kingdom.” Lyssa wrapped her arms around the bedpost as she watched him open one of the drawers. “Red dragons were harder to reason with, but if you could figure out the riddles and promised them treasure, they would help. Green dragons were trickier. You had to prove your honesty through tests and challenges.”
“What about black dragons?” Mike asked as he began to toss items onto the bed.
Lyssa swallowed heavily and admitted, “We didn’t try to catch black dragons.”
Heat pinked Lyssa’s cheeks as a pair of white leather restraints bounced onto the ivory counterpane in front of her. She tried not to think about the other items Mike had produced, but it was impossible. The nipple clamps at either end of a string of pearls made the tips of her breasts sting in anticipation. She swallowed a moan when she spotted the graduated curves of an anal plug. The glossy black color looked sinister against the alabaster scarf beside it.
“What type of dragon would you choose to be?” Lyssa asked, although considering the toys he’d laid out, she probably wouldn’t be too off base if she guessed.
He held her gaze as his fingers stroked over the ebony plug. “Black, pet.”
The muscles of her bottom twitched, and her empty sheath clenched and ached for him to fill it. Thoughts spun, and excitement spilled through her system. Lyssa tore her gaze from Mike’s and looked at the other toys on the duvet.
He followed her gaze. “The princess strayed too close to the caves,” Mike offered as he picked up the length of silk on which her focus had returned.
“Are we finished with the pictures?” The soft
click
and
hum
of the autowinders emphasized the quiet of the cavernous studio. The subdued lighting only added to the fire stirring in her center. Darkness filled the rest of the converted warehouse. The barrier that closed off the reception area allowed none of the afternoon sunlight inside.
“Only just starting.” Mike stepped behind her. “Close your eyes, Lys.”
Lyssa hesitated.
“Trust me.”
It wasn’t a question of trust. No, she trusted
him
; she simply didn’t trust the emotions he professed to feel. She knew this couldn’t last. In the hidden gallery at the Folly, he’d whispered he loved her. It hadn’t been the first and probably wouldn’t be the last time he professed to loving her.
She hadn’t taken his words for granted. She’d hoarded each confession from him, kept it tucked away in her memory so she could remember them after he was gone. But she continued to keep her own feelings carefully locked away, acutely aware that if she gave in and Mike didn’t leave, if she allowed him to tether himself to her, he would be the one condemned to a life he’d grow to resent when he realized she wasn’t worth loving.
Lyssa shut her eyes. She tensed briefly at the brush of silk against her cheeks and over her nose, but the thought of not being able to see fanned the ardor already simmering inside her. Two tugs and a bit of pressure settled the silk over her eyes. His fingers stroked her loosened hair. “We dragons love our gold.”