When The Wrong One Loves You Right

Raising the Stakes

"No, I don't like that one."

I spun around at the sound of Phillip's voice and my mouth dropped at the sight of him standing in the doorway between the sets of brocade curtains, holding each aside in his large hands. He was looking me up and down like I was lunch.

"Phillip!" I cried. "Where...why the hell haven't you answered my texts?"

He grinned at me. "I did!"

I rolled my eyes. "Phillip, emojis don't count. I need to tell you..."

"You need to put something else on..." he mused sauntering into the dressing room. He went over to rack of rejected dresses and picked one out.

I was in Kleinfeld's for my final fitting and Zahira had just scurried off to take a phone call. My mother had pled a headache and claimed she couldn't come, but it didn't really matter. I had selected my dress. Which was why I crossed my arms and backed away as he came towards me with his choice.

"Phillip, we're not playing dress up!" I said holding my hands up. "That's not a challenge!" I shrieked with a grin as he made a grab for me. "We have to talk!"

Phillip, also grinning, turned me so my back was to him and swiftly unzipped my dress. "Humor me," he said peeling the dress from my shoulders and kissing the skin he revealed as he did so.

I shivered. "Phillip you know if you do that..."

He laughed, a warm deep sound that vibrated against the skin he was kissing. "I know...I wish we could. Not here, though."

"Why not? We've done it everywhere else," I commented, shimmying out of the dress and standing in my white lacy underwear. I looked over my shoulder at him. "Phillip, about this game..."

He was contemplating my bustier and biting his lip. "Take this off," he commanded, fingering the hooks.

"Phillip that dress," I said pointing to the one he had picked out, "requires a bustier underneath it."

He shook his head. "No, I want to be able to see your nipples."

My eyes widened and I could only gape at him. 

"Here," he said, unhooking it and letting fall to the floor. 

I crossed my arms over my breasts even though it was nothing he hadn't seen before. He was smiling and humming to himself as he threw the fine, white silk dress over my head. It was simple yet sexy, sleeveless, fitted from breast to hip where it softly flared out and ended in a short, circular train. There was no lace, no embellishment of any kind except for a long slit from the front hem to the upper thigh. The fabric was so fine and delicate it would shimmer in soft candlelight. And without the bustier underneath, sure enough, the outline of my nipples were clearly visible.

Phillip ran a hand appreciatively down my spine and over my ass. "I like you in this one," he whispered in my ear. His hands came up and around me to cover my breasts, thumbing over my erect nipples. 

I sighed and reached up behind me to grab the back of his neck with my hand and drag his lips to mine for a kiss. The moment his warm, wet mouth met mine, I spun and pressed my body against his. As the reflection of several mirrors told on us, we greedily devoured each other mouths and Phillip's hands were everywhere, caressing my body through the delicate silk making it an insignificant barrier.

I pulled away long enough to pant, "Phillip, you need to..."

He reached down and suddenly his hand was on my bare thigh, slipping easily through the slit in the dress and gliding up my thigh. I parted my legs and he pulled my panties aside and  spread my labia testing out the slick evidence of my want.