“In any way you desire,” I told her. “I’ll do anything you want.”
She smiled and twisted my nipple between her fingers. I hissed. “What if I wanted to use my riding crop on you and turn your ass and thighs red?” she asked.
“Anything,” I answered. She growled in response, squeezing my breast in her hand roughly.
“What if I wanted to tie you up and tease your pretty little flower bud, endlessly, bringing you close to the edge but never letting you cum?” she asked me softly, kissing my cheek sweetly.
“Anything Ma’am,” I confirmed again, “But that sounds like a punishment,” I added, even though my insides twitched at the thought.
“Does it?” she mused, a grin pulling at her lips, “It sounds like a perfectly wonderful night to me.”
“I want to give you many wonderful nights,” I said and twisted as much I could in her grasp to reach her lips with my own.
I was feeling very emotional; overwhelmed really. Maybe it was her garden gift, maybe it was because she still wore the bracelet with my scent, or that she had permitted me to use her name, but I felt loved by her, despite never hearing the words. Maybe I was delusional. Maybe she only liked me. Maybe I’d never know for sure. But right then, it felt like love.
She hummed into our kiss, her hands leaving my sensitive areas and settling on my stomach.
“Let me hold you for a while,” she said, pulling me towards her tightly, her leg coming over me and trapping me in place. I was disappointed she didn’t touch me more, but I suspected she enjoyed leaving me wanting.
I fell asleep in her arms, the shade of the canopy protecting us from the hot summer sun, and I awoke to her fingers ghosting over the skin of my abdomen ticklishly.
“You fall asleep so easily,” she told me.
“You’re comfortable,” I replied, pressing my head against her chest. She purred lightly but after a few minutes, pushed me to a sitting position.
“We need to get ready. Our hair and makeup team will be arriving with Lasinda any minute now,” she told me.
“Hair and makeup?” I asked confused.
“Yes, professionals to ensure we look our best,” she explained.
“There are people paid to do makeup?” I asked. I understood hairdressers. After my first experience with the hairdresser in our village, I never let Father near my head with scissors again. I still cringed remembering how I had looked as a small girl running around with my hair cut by my father.
“If someone has a skill, they can be paid for it. There are an endless number of professions, pet,” she told me as she stood from the swing and held her hand out to help me up. She ran my hair between her fingers. “Your hair is getting quite long. If there is time, I will ask if it can be trimmed,” she told me, and I nodded.
Hair and makeup were an odd experience. I wasn’t one to wear makeup and I worried it would feel like face painting. It was an unnecessary worry as after my haircut and style Selene instructed the makeup man to keep my look light and natural. I still worried about touching my eyes; Selene’s hand had reached out to grab my wrist before I rubbed my eyes and warned me not to.
Selene’s dress was gold, sparkling and backless. It clung to her perfectly. The defined line down the spine of her strong back was captivating, the smooth muscle of her shoulders on show. I was both amazed and amused as I watched her getting ready to dress when she used a sort of tape specifically for the purpose of holding her breasts perfectly in place.
“To avoid giving anyone a free show.” She winked. I giggled in return and could appreciate that the front of her dress was a plunging neckline. While it was modest in the sense it did not actually show anything, I imagined that dancing and staying modest would be difficult without any support for her ample chest. Her long left leg was on display where her dress split to mid-thigh and she wore open-toe strappy heels.
Her gold eye shadow faded into a soft rose and held a hint of sparkle. Even her lips held the faintest touch of gold, like stardust. So much of the same colour on anyone else would have been too much, but Selene, with her black as night waves perfectly curled and her silver eyes, looked spectacular.
My dress was midnight blue, floor length, the top sequins with spaghetti straps that crisscrossed my back, and the skirt a light fabric that flowed freely.
Selene’s arms wrapped around me, her chin resting on my shoulder as I admired myself in the mirror.
“Do you like your dress? I thought simple, elegant, and my colours,” she asked me.
“I like it,” I told her, and she kissed my cheek lightly in return. “Your dress is wonderful,” I continued.
“Would you like to take it off for me later?” she asked, watching me in the mirror. I saw my face flush at her words and how I bit my lower lip, nodding. Her hand moved to my face, her thumb gently pulling my lip free. “You’ll get lipstick on your teeth,” she told me lightly, her thumb brushing over my bottom lip.
“Lord Halvorsen has arrived,” Lasinda announced. The stylist and her team were still packing up, and Lasinda wanted to ensure that everything was perfect – right up to the moment Selene left for the summer ball.
Selene took my hand and led me from the bedroom.
“Oskar, you’re dashing, dear,” she said, releasing my hand and walking to him. He wrapped his large hands around her waist and kissed her lips. I felt suddenly ill. The lady who had cut and styled my hair audibly gushed in whispers to her partner about how perfect they were together. She didn’t know anything. She was an idiot. Obviously. Selene was mine. Not his.