Maria Brink Costume Novels & Stories

I asked, smoothing the fabric with both hands. “You look like someone worth donating millions to,” Monica said, appearing in her navy gown—sophisticated, structured, with a subtle sparkle at the collar. “And just sexy enough to make Raffaele lose his damn mind.” I blushed. Maria spun in her emerald dress. “Okay, we look stunning. Let’s buy them before we start crying over price tags.” Just then, the boutique’s front door opened, and a staff member entered in a smart marine uniform with gold buttons.

Noah was dressed in white silk, being passed from one relative to another, but my eyes were on the plan. Maria arrived late, and she took everyone’s breath away. She was wearing a gown of shimmering emerald silk that was cut dangerously low in the back. Her hair was piled high, and her lips were painted a deep, blood red. She didn't look like a wounded woman in a wheelchair anymore; she was walking with a cane, looking powerful and untamable. Immediately, she began to move through the crowd. She focused her attention on a handsome guest, a distant cousin of the Alpha named Marcus. She laughed loudly at his jokes, leaning into him, her hand resting on his arm. From across the lawn, I saw Leo.

I repeated. The dress wasn’t me but it was flawless or at least would be if I were going to a strip club to perform. The sheer parts would tear free from the silk with the slightest tug or so it seemed. I felt indecent and couldn’t wear it. “Yes, you can,” Maria argued because she knew my thoughts like the stylish witch she was. “Live a little. Get wild. I have your back and you know it. I won’t leave your side and I’ll ball-bust any guy who tries to pin you against a wall and believe me, they will try.”

Carefully, she turns the handle and opens it an inch. She gives no warning when she bursts into the outer room. The woman lets out a short scream, quickly cut off. I make it to the door in time to see Marinah break her neck. Marinah grabs her and lowers her to floor. She looks up at me. I see something in her expression I haven't seen before. It says she understands war. People die to keep the majority alive. It's them or us and no time for second thoughts. I cock my head, asking silently what she's doing. "I need a dress for the party," she says sadly. I look down at the woman. She is, in fact, wearing a black gown. "Black won't show as much blood," Marinah adds.

Lisa came to his rescue cockily like a elegant peacock even though she was mad and angry at how Mara's name was the subject of the matter "speak of the devil, Here she comes!" As expected, when all the reporters turned towards the entrance of the red carpet, thier first reaction was Surprise. Mara catwalked majestically in a blue chiffon dress. The beautiful blue hue added taste to her already curved and beautiful waistline. The dress was cut open at the back while the dress is not longer than her knees and there was a long thin fabric by the left and right arms. Although it was a beautiful dress, but many would look terrible in it. And to add allure to her dressing, Mara wore a white lab co

“I haven’t seen anything or anyone kids, now you 7 need to leave because you aren’t allowed back here." “-The Masked Queen is a brand built by the Slim-Jim agency and from my sources, the image alone costs twenty million dollars, and with L.K being the representative it’s ten million dollars on the twenty million. That’s a lot of money to lose people!” Her loud exclamation can be heard through the speakers so I cover it in panic. “Hearing that you were able to get rights over your brand makes me curious how you did it, Slim-Jim isn’t an agency that would like to lose that much money without putting up a damn hard fight. The world is curious L.K, how the hell did you do it?”

I’d tried to go alone, but she was relentless, declaring the trip a mission to "add a little spice." She had a sixth sense for the most daring pieces, pulling lacy scraps off hangers without a hint of hesitation. I kept reaching for modesty, but Maria wasn’t having it. "Oh no, mija," she grinned, holding up a barely-there lace teddy. "This is exactly the kind of thing that will make Dante’s eyes pop out of his head." "Maria, I can’t wear that!" Heat climbed my neck. My face had turned volcanic. "Put this on and watch that man forget how to breathe. He’ll drop to his knees so fast, he won’t know what hit him." She tossed it into the growing pile, utterly unfazed.

“This is women’s work. Go find Marcus and do whatever men do before ceremonies.” “Panic?” Kael suggested. “That too. Now go.” After he left, Eleanor turned to me with an expression I couldn’t read. “How are you really feeling?” “Like I’m about to walk into battle.” “Good. That’s the right mindset.” She gestured to the team. “This is Maria-she’ll do your hair. Chen handles makeup. And this is the dress.” One of the women unveiled a garment bag, pulling out the most beautiful dress I’d ever seen. It was deep midnight blue-almost black- with silver embroidery that caught the light.

Mark sent a smile her way before he unlocked the door and sneaked out, closing it gently behind him. Maria sat on the bed, relishing what had just happened. After a few minutes, she got up and dressed. She wore her skimpiest shorts and a crop top, without bothering to wear a bra and panties. The shorts were white. She chose that, so anyone who looked whenever she bent would see the stains caused by Mark's cum. Her breasts jiggled as she walked, the watermelons happy to be let out unrestrained. Her nipples poked against the cotton.

Sia answers in an even tone. She turns to me and rolls her eyes. Instead, smiling at Maris. I don’t like you either. “Maris, I need my dress.” She said. “Of course.” Maris said, going to get the dress. When Maris brings it, she lifts her finished outfit from her hands. It is stunning. Like literal stunning. Deep crimson. Fitted. Designed to draw attention. Her eyes slide to me. “Beautiful, I know. We Ironfangs are. Better dress carefully,” she says smoothly. “Afterall, trying too hard, aren’t you?”