Dashing is not even enough to describe Mr. Austin. He comes out of his room in an all-black ensemble. Now I understand it, the custom-made suit fits him like a glove. It’s classy. It screams money and power. “You clean up good,” he smirks at my dress. “The dresses…” He raises a hand to stop me from saying anything further. “Stop, just accept it,” he said. “But they’re too much, I wouldn’t even have any use for those formal ones.” He shrugs. Staring at the intricate design on his vest. “Giovanni is a genius,” I said. “Three pieces are for events, I suppose?” “And whenever I feel good, or when I need to go to battle,” he thumbs his cufflinks. “It’s my armor,” he adds. “It’s worth every penny, sir,” the same tension from yesterday is present. I didn’t sleep well because of what he pulled off in the dressing room. My mind kept on repeating the memory on a loop. Sometimes, his fingers would venture somewhere else to do some other things to my body. Sometimes, he would cup my fa
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