Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 99485 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 497(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99485 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 497(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
“Well, you’ll have to wait,” I said primly, still trying to catch my breath. “For now, hand me the green dress, please.”
I tried on dresses and even a few pairs of lady’s trousers which felt wrong to wear at first. But Slade encouraged me to experiment.
“Have fun—choose whatever feels comfortable—whatever you like, baby,” he urged me.
I decided to follow his advice. I got a lot of clothing that would never be considered appropriate on L’Crist just because I liked the way it looked. Most everything I bought was much more flattering that the dresses the palace seamstress made me.
I couldn’t help thinking it was too bad I would only get to wear all my new things for six months. There was no way I could bring them back home with me—the people in the palace would think I had turned into some kind of woman of the night if I tried to wear them there.
But what about The Need? whispered a little voice in my head. What will you do about that when you’re away from Slade?
I pushed that thought to the back of my head. Probably I would stop having The Need once I left him for good, I told myself. But I couldn’t help feeling just a little sad at the idea. I wasn’t sad about not having strange sexual urges and getting cold all the time if he wasn’t near me, but I was sad about the idea of not seeing the big Brute anymore.
Then I told myself I was being ridiculous. Slade was my enemy—the enemy of my kingdom. His family had been extorting money from us for years—I was right to want to get away from him.
But still…I couldn’t help enjoying his banter and compliments as he helped me try on clothes. Almost everything he had chosen for me to try on looked amazing on me—he genuinely had good taste, even if what he had picked was sometimes indecent, at least by L’Crist standards.
The only problem with having my new husband helping me try on clothes was the fact that Slade kept touching me. And every time he did, I felt more and more drawn to him. I wasn’t cold, so at least my teeth weren’t chattering. But my nipples were so tight they hurt and I began to get that hot, achy feeling in the V between my legs.
I was getting the embarrassing feeling that I was getting really wet down there, too. I hoped that Slade wouldn’t notice there was a damp spot growing in the beige lace panties I was wearing.
At last, after I had chosen more clothes than I could wear in a year, Slade suggested we look at the other departments.
“You need shoes to go with all these new outfits,” he pointed out. “Come on, let’s see what we can find.”
So our next stop was on the floor that housed the shoe section. I was amazed all over again at the selection. Back on L’Crist we had a palace cobbler the same way we had a palace seamstress.
Bartholomew was a little old man who was mostly deaf and half blind, but he had been making all of the Royal Family’s shoes for years. The men’s boots came out fine, but I had to admit that the slippers he made for me weren’t very delicate—or very pretty. I never had the heart to complain—my mother had raised me not to. Now, however, I had my choice of as many pretty shoes as I wanted.
I wandered through the aisles, choosing pairs I thought would go with my new clothing. Slade chose some too, most notably a pair of gorgeous deep red pumps that had extremely high heels.
“I’ll break my neck trying to walk in those!” I protested, when he presented them to me. I was sitting in a comfy chair trying on the others and I already had several pairs I really liked.
“These aren’t for walking.” He gave me a salacious grin as he sank to his knees before me.
“What do you mean?” I asked, rather breathlessly as he lifted my right foot and slipped the red shoe on. It had long red leather laces attached to the heel and Slade wrapped them around my ankle and tied them expertly. He placed a soft kiss on the top of my foot before looking up.
“I mean, these are what they call ‘fuck me shoes,’” he growled as he put the other one on me. “You wear these and I won’t be able to resist you, baby. And believe me—you won’t be on your feet for long because I’ll have you on your back in bed before you know it.”
“Slade!” I hissed, looking around to see if any of the attendants were listening. Luckily, none of them were.
Slade just gave me an irrepressible grin.
“Come on—try them. They match your new dress,” he pointed out. He had talked me into changing into the red dress he had chosen for me in the clothing department. I had to admit that it looked good on me, even if the hem was too short and it showed too much cleavage.