Page 52 of Tarnished Tyrant (Zhukova Bratva 1)

She then proceeds to pull the silk dress on over her clothes.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“I was a lifeguard three summers in a row,” she says as she reaches underneath the dress and starts unbuttoning her shirt. “I could get in and out of a wet swimsuit without a changing room.”

“I’d pay to see that,” I chuckle, though my cock stiffens at the thought of Belle, dripping wet with ocean water.

She pulls one sleeve and then the other off before sliding the shirt out from under the dress and dropping it on the floor. “It would be a waste of money because there’d be nothing to see.”

I watch as she unzips and removes her pants and slides off her white lacy bra without showing even the smallest glimpse of skin. Finally, she zips the dress up and looks down at herself.

“It’s a little small,” she says, adjusting her chest and tugging the material down around her hips. “But you did okay finding my size.”

“Okay” is an understatement. I couldn’t have picked better even if it had been her I was buying it for.

She’s right—the dress is a little tight. But that just makes it all the better. The material stretches and tugs deliciously on every single one of her curves. And where the hemline is intended to whisper across her knee, it’s closer to mid-thigh. The discrete slit is spread wide, giving a scintillating view of her long, lean thigh.

Fuck me.

Xena Simatou would look like the off-brand option in this dress. I can’t believe I almost gave it to her instead.

This dress was made for Belle.

And she was made for me.

“Well?” Belle asks, throwing her arms out wide. “Do I look okay? Are we ready?”

“Fine,” I growl. “You look fine.”

Fine like wine. Fine like art. Fine like I want to inspect every inch of her with my fingers and my tongue.

I grab my keys and walk past her into the hallway. “Let’s go.”

11

NIKOLAI

Belle’s hand is tucked in mine as we walk past the line of people waiting outside of The Ruby Room.

“I already tried this,” she hisses, tugging awkwardly at the dress as it rides up even higher around her thighs.

A man with a shaved head and a silver chain around his neck stares at her hungrily. I pull her closer and glare over her head at him until he backs down.

“No, you didn’t,” I tell her. “You didn’t have me last time."

"And what are you going to do?"

I gesture to the dress. "I've done most of the work by putting you in this. Every man in this line wants to fuck you."

She looks around nervously. "Ew."

"So now, all you have to do is act like you've seduced a man even once in your life, and we're in."

"I seduced you, didn't I?"

“How could I forget?” I drawl sarcastically. “The way you nearly projectile vomited in that plane stole my breath away."

Her face flushes, and she tugs on the dress again, trying to cover more of herself. I grab her hands and fold them in mine.

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