Mia And Vincent Pulp Fiction Costume Novels & Stories

My cock throbbed in response. Then I saw her. Mia stood in the middle of the room wearing a short baby-doll nightgown, Mickey Mouse printed across the chest, the hem barely reaching the tops of her thighs. She looked equal parts ridiculous and devastatingly innocent. "Do you really want to have sex with a man whose face you've never seen before?" I asked again, voice low behind the mask. "You don't want me to take off this mask?" Mia's throat worked. For a long moment, she said nothing, and I watched her, noticing the rapid rise and fall of her chest, the way her thighs pressed together, and the way her eyes kept dropping to my mouth and away again.

Vincent and I made our way across the large yard and was led to what seemed to be the Alpha's office. Our gazes met just before he twisted the door knob and walked in. A woman was sitting on a chair, her legs crossed. She was wearing a shiny leather one piece, her short hair was dyed bubble gum pink. She was wearing a pair of leather boots and gloves. The fact that she looked like something out of a sci-fi movie, made me want to scoff. When her gaze met mine, her smile widened. Vincent had gone stiff beside me. I could feel the tension rolling off him in a waves. "Maryse" he said through gritted teeth, keeping his face emotionless.

“You owe me ten bucks.” “I knew there was something between them!” Astonishing in a silver semi-translucent slim-fit dress that embraced every perilous curve of her body, Mia looked like she had stridded straight out of an old Hollywood fantasy. On her lips sat a smile Miaelle had seen thousands of times before, it was the smile of a pretentious backstabbing best friend. Miaelle stood immobilized, the champagne glass she held slid, nearly dropping from her numb fingers. “Mia?” She whispered. “No!”

The screen clearly showed her bounty: Whoever ruins Mia… I’ll marry. Vincent and Isabel’s faces twisted with rage and shock. Sophia shook her head wildly. “No! That’s fake! Sister, why are you lying about me?!” I kept scrolling. Money transfers. Voice recordings. Plans to frame me. Messages to smugglers. Every crime, laid out in front of her parents. Sophia couldn’t cry anymore. Vincent roared: “Sophia! What is the meaning of this?!” She backed away, terrified.

Victor stood in the center wearing a charcoal shirt open at the throat and dark trousers that did nothing to hide the heavy bulge already straining the zipper. He was six foot four feet that tall, thick through the chest and arms, his knuckles scarred and his eyes, flat and predatory. He simply looked her over like meat on a hook and said, “Strip.” Mia’s fingers shook as she reached for the zipper at her spine. She swallowed hard, as the little black dress slid down her body and pooled at her feet. She had been instructed not to put on a bra and panties. So she was just bare skin, gooseflesh racing over her arms and thighs, her nipples tightening painfully under his stare.

Vincent's voice rang out behind me, sharp and instinctive. "Vincent!" Sofia clung to his arm immediately, her voice soft and aggrieved. His steps faltered. … There were only four days left until the Costa family's birthday banquet. I returned home and began packing. The so-called matching pistols, the custom-made jackets, even the matching toothbrushes in the bathroom, I threw them all into the trash. In the early hours of the morning, Vincent came back drunk. The heavy smell of alcohol mixed with a woman's perfume woke me.

The silk shimmered faintly under the sun, and for a brief moment, the simple grace of her presence drew the air around her still. “Maybe kings can be both,” she said lightly. Vincent turned, his smile breaking through his previous stiffness. “You’re saying that because you don’t have to wear this costume.” She tilted her head, amused. “I have layers of brocade and hairpins the size of daggers. I’d say we’re even.” He chuckled, the earlier irritation easing from his shoulders. For a moment, the heavy tension that had lingered since Sophia’s scene simply… evaporated. The makeup artist stepped back. “You’re good to go.”

"MAVIS, did you see that nasty lady? I will avenge Mommy!" Vincent smirked vilely. MAVIS was Vincent's best "partner-in-crime". Its system was filled with various ways to prank people. "What do you plan to do, young master?" "Don't ask! Just remember to film everything and circulate it to all the journalists here." MAVIS was shocked. "Young master, are you going all out from the get-go?" Vincent scoffed. "The nasty lady had her eyes on my dad. Of course, I have to go all out!"

He smiled. Vincent's phone chimed which indicated he got a notification. As he opened it, I saw a picture of a redhead girl with long beautiful hair and bright green eyes. She wore a huge grin as she hugged Vincent. Her lips were painted in scarlet colored lipstick and her pale skin complemented the black dress she was wearing. Vincent's hand was wrapped around her waist as he stared at the camera. They looked perfect together. Vincent caught me staring at the picture and turned it towards me so I could see it better.

For a moment, I paused, taking in the view and trying to calm my nerves. Vincent's car was idling outside the gate, and as I slid into the passenger seat, His handsome face came into view and I couldn't help but smile at the sight. His shirt, I noticed with a start, was the same shade of blue as my dress. "Well, well," Vincent said, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he took in our matching outfits. "Look at us, coordinating without even trying. People might think we planned this," He teased with a laugh.