I spent a while curling my hair and smoothing my bangs back discreetly until they were invisible. Then I tied my hair at the nape of my neck and shook out the ponytail, the loose curls tickling my naked back. I rubbed expensive, musky lotion over my body and went to the box with the lingerie and pulled aside the lid.
I lifted the delicate, silver lace bustier, as fine and soft as spiderweb in my fingers. It fit beautifully, lifting my breasts to give me the perfect amount of cleavage. Then I took the panties, made of the same barely-there lace, and slid them up my thighs. Instead of fabric over my pussy, there was a single thread of real pearls that nestled against my skin. I shifted, pressing my thighs together, and the pearls rubbed deliciously against my clit.
I reached across and took my phone out of my purse. I rarely used it except to text Lucien while he was at work, but an idea had been forming in my head all day and I finally felt brave enough to try it.
Positioning the camera on the sink, I tapped the timer and turned around, bending over to expose myself. Then I spread my pussy, sliding my fingers through the wet folds, and began rubbing my clit. I was already soaked, and the thought of Lucien seeing me touch myself on video had my heart thumping. Pleasure surged within a minute and I came hard, gasping as my pussy clenched around my fingers.
I sent the video right away, afraid if I waited too long I would lose my nerve. Then I set aside the phone and applied my makeup, trying to ignore my racing heart. For some reason, sending my stoic husband a dirty video scared me more than the night that awaited us at the Romano mansion.
My phone remained silent as I got my dress from the closet. I went to stand before the mirror and slipped the sheer fabric over my hips and up my torso. It was almost transparent everywhere except for a portion over my ass and pussy. The structured bodice clung to my breasts and had crystals sewn into the lace that glittering like starlight. The draping skirt was silvery gauze edged with white velvet so that it dragged behind me when I walked, the fabric parting to reveal my entire left leg. The sleeveless top left my shoulders and throat bare and I settled the necklace from Lucien around my neck.
I was standing up from putting on my heels when I heard the click of Lucien’s wingtips. My heart caught in my throat and I turned just as my husband came through the door, stopping short as his eyes fell on me. He had his phone in one hand, his knuckles white around it.
“Olivia,” he said quietly.
For a moment, I thought about shrinking back, but then I squared my shoulders and met his gaze. That endlessly cold gaze I loved so well.
“Do you like it?” I asked.
He moved toward me, setting his phone aside. “You look fucking incredible,” he breathed. “How am I supposed to get anything done with you sending me videos of your cunt? Or dressing like that in front of me?”
He took me by the back of the neck and pulled me near to kiss my mouth.
“I thought it might give you something to look forward to at the end of the night,” I whispered.
“I’m going to need you to suck me off before that.”
I shook my head. “Not yet. You make it through this and I’ll do anything you want,” I said. “You keep talking as if you doubt yourself, but I know you’ll succeed. You will make it through this because that’s the kind of man you are, Lucien. And when it’s done, all you have to do is say the word and I’ll be your whore.”
“Jesus,” he breathed.
“I love you.”
His face softened a minute amount. He bent forward and kissed my mouth long and deep. “I love you, baby.”
For the first time, Lucien had a driver take us in a sleek, black SUV. We sat with our hands clasped together, the silence between us heavy with anticipation. It was bitterly cold outside and fine snowflakes fell in sparse flurries outside the window. The drive to the Romano mansion felt like it took an age and with every passing second, my anxiety grew.
We pulled up before the doors. Everything was decorated for the holiday, but knowing what we were about to do, the glittering lights were almost grim. Lucien helped me out of the car and guided me up the stairs, one hand clasped around mine and the other on my lower back. For a moment as we ascended the stairs, his arms around me, I felt safe.
Then we entered the front hallway, packed with people, and I tensed, almost stumbling. Lucien leaned forward to removed my coat and pressed his mouth to my ear.
“This is it, baby. Stand up straight, shoulders back,” he said. “Good girl.”
A rush of warmth surged through me and I straightened my spine. He held out his arm and I looked up at him, curling my hand beneath his elbow. He wore a dark blue, Italian wool suit with a faint checked pattern and a dark silky tie. It made a striking picture against his dark hair and hazel eyes. And beneath it all, under the guns and knives hidden on his figure, was his hard body, already tensed for action.
We entered the living room packed with people. Iris stood on the right side of the room by the large window with Sienna by her side. I frowned as I released Lucien and made my way over, wondering if she knew her fate. When I approached, Iris swept aside her sleek, black dress that pooled around her feet and hugged me.
“You look amazing,” she said. “Gorgeous enough to be a queen.”
As she said it, her eyes widened slightly and I knew at once that Duran had finally told her. Now that I looked at her, she was a little bit pale and she kept chewing on her lower lip. Sienna approached behind her in a draping gold dress with a plunging neckline.
“Hi,” she said quietly. “It’s been a while.”
I leaned in and hugged her. “It’s good to see you. Have you talked to Lucien?”
She frowned, glaring across the room to where Lucien stood with Romano and Duran. “Yeah.”
“What did he say?” Iris asked, leaning closer.