W A R N I N G: CAN BE CRINGE
"Shhh...just a little bit more. If you can still walk, then we're not finished." He groaned, moving down to my breasts, I moaned loudly, lost in a sea of pleasure. God I would definitely asked my existence after this.
An...
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I paced back and forth in my tiny quarters, feeling like a caged animal. The Chanel dress hung on the back of my door like a shimmering ghost, taunting me with its elegance. I was supposed to wear it tonight, but every time I thought about slipping it on, I broke out in a cold sweat. Kira had told us we didn't even have to wear our work uniforms tonight-just something nice, nothing inappropriate. But this Chanel dress? It cost more than my entire existence, and I couldn't shake the feeling that it was way too inappropriate-for me, at least.
"You're not ready yet?" Hazel's voice snapped me out of my anxious spiral. She breezed into the room, looking stunning in a green dress that hugged her curves just right.
"I don't have any dress," I said, gesturing vaguely to my closet. "No, I mean, I don't like any of the dresses I have."
I was just standing there in my bra, but Hazel didn't bat an eye. We were all women here, after all. Kira waltzed in next, carrying a cup of water, taking in the scene with raised eyebrows.
"If Mr. Caesar gave you the dress, it means you can wear it," she said, setting the cup down on my dresser.
"Exactly," Hazel chimed in, her voice full of authority.
"I don't know what to match it with," I said, making up another excuse on the spot. My brain was running out of reasons not to wear the damn thing. I turned around, hoping to avoid their judgmental looks, but Kira let out a low whistle that made me freeze.
"You didn't tell me you had a spine tattoo," Kira whispered, her tone a mix of awe and curiosity.
I felt my face heat up. Damn that dragon tattoo. I got it when I was nineteen, a rebellious move to piss off Aiden, and it had worked. But now I was stuck with the thing for life, and I wasn't exactly in love with it anymore.
"That's not the point," I muttered, trying to steer the conversation back to the dress. "We need to figure out what I'm going to wear."
"We'll help you," Hazel said, her smile a little too eager for my liking. She made a beeline for my closet, rifling through the hangers until she pulled out the Chanel dress. The way she and Kira looked at it, like they'd just found buried treasure, should've been my first warning sign.
I should've known I was doomed the moment I let those two Fashionistas take over.
Before I knew it, they were pulling and tugging me into the dress, discussing makeup and accessories like they were planning a high-stakes heist. Hazel was on my hair, trying to tame it into something that didn't look like I'd just rolled out of bed, while Kira kept shoving different pairs of shoes in my face.
"Why do I feel like I'm being prepped for a sacrificial ceremony?" I grumbled, trying not to trip over Hazel's foot as she spun me around to zip up the back of the dress.
"Because you kind of are," Kira said with a smirk. "Except the god you're being sacrificed to is named Ryan Caesar, and he's not the forgiving type."
"That's not helping," I shot back, but I couldn't help the nervous laugh that escaped.
