A business arrangement forced us together.
His power keeps us tangled.
And every time I try to pull away... I want him even more.
" * " indicate more mature/ explicit scenes, the more the spicier
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ALESSANDRO
I heard her curse before I saw her.
"This damn zipper—"
The suite was quiet, the kind of quiet that made everything feel too loud. Her voice, soft and frustrated, drifted from the bathroom. I didn't even mean to listen—but when Amira was involved, I never meant to do a lot of things.
She stepped out a second later, the back of her dress gaping slightly. "Do you..." she paused, eyes flicking toward me like she hated needing the words.
"Need a hand?" I asked before she could finish.
Her silence was answer enough.
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AMIRA
"Yes." As much as I hated admitting that I needed help, I needed to get this dress on pronto.
I try once more, pushing my arms back and turning to the side to use the mirror to its full advantage. It doesn't work
This dress has a built-in bra, and with the trouble zipping it up, my hands are the only thing preserving my decency. That is, until Alessandro steps into the bathroom with a pained look on his face.
It's as if time stands still when he's in my vicinity. He looks me over in the mirror, and I place each side I'm trying to zip up together into his hands, making sure it doesn't drop in the process. He takes another look at me in the mirror—eyes tracing the almost exposed skin down my back—and I don't dare meet his gaze.
He steps in closer, and suddenly, I feel the space shrink. His chest is behind my head, his bicep brushing against my shoulder, and it makes me feel small—delicate—next to him.
I clear my throat in an attempt to cut the thick tension brimming between us. "Thank you. All you have to do is zip it up...and then tie a bow like a knot at the top."
His fingers brush the fabric first and then my waist, trailing down to my hips, his grip tightens further and then goes soft like he's savoring every second of it.
