OH MY!!
975 Words
Amara sat in the sunroom, curled up in one corner of the plush sofa. Her eyes stared ahead, unfocused. The sunlight filtered in, warm and soft, wrapping her like a blanket. But her thoughts weren’t calm. That kiss still lingered like heat in her chest.
The silence stretched long.
She was still lost in her thoughts when she heard footsteps approach.
“Miss Amara,” Helena’s voice broke into the quiet.
Amara looked up.
Helena offered a polite smile. “Mr. Thorne is waiting for you in the West Wing.”
Her heart skipped. “What for?”
“I wasn’t told,” Helena replied, turning to lead the way.
Amara followed her without question. She didn’t ask why or where exactly in the West Wing. Something in her chest tightened with anticipation, but she didn’t know if it was excitement or fear. Maybe both.
When they reached a tall set of double doors, Helena opened one and stepped aside. “Go in, Miss.”
Amara stepped in—and froze.
The room was… transformed. The whole space looked like a private fashion showroom. Racks of designer dresses, glimmering under soft lights, framed the room. There were shoes, accessories, even a mirrored runway floor. A few quiet, well-dressed staff members moved like shadows, arranging garments and whispering instructions.
And in the middle of it all stood Leon.
He turned the moment she entered. His eyes lit up. He didn’t say anything right away—he just stared at her like she was exactly what he needed to see.
“You came,” he said softly, walking toward her.
“I was told you were waiting.”
He smiled, the kind that touched his eyes. “I wanted to do something for you. You deserve more than plain silk gowns.”
She crossed her arms. “You mean the short ones with no underwear?”
He smirked. “Exactly. So, I brought the store here. Now, let me pick what you wear.”
She arched a brow. “You’re picking my clothes now?”
“Don’t pretend like you’re shocked. You signed the contract.”
Her lips parted, but no words came.
Leon stepped closer, lifting a deep green dress from a hanger. “This one. Try it.”
She hesitated.
He leaned in, voice close to her ear. “I’ll be watching.”
She took the dress, cheeks warm. The staff directed her behind a privacy screen.
As she changed, she could still feel his eyes on her, even though he couldn’t see her. The dress slid on easily, hugging her figure. When she stepped out, the room seemed to pause.
Leon’s expression shifted. He didn’t smile. He stared—hard. Like he couldn’t decide what he wanted to do more: kiss her or worship her.
“You’re not real,” he whispered.
“What?”
“You look... unreal. Come here.”
She walked toward him slowly.
He stepped behind her, reaching up to adjust one strap on her shoulder. His fingers grazed her skin and stayed there. She swallowed hard.
“You feel nervous,” he said softly.
“I’m not.”
He slid a hand to her waist, pulling her just a little closer. “Liar.”
One of the staff cleared his throat quietly and pretended to be busy.
Leon didn’t care. His fingers slid down the curve of her hip. “Turn around.”
She did.
His eyes traveled across her body. “We’ll keep this one.”
Another dress came. A red one, thin as breath. She slipped into it, and the neckline dipped daringly.
Leon didn’t wait this time. As soon as she stepped out, he came forward, brushing her hair over one shoulder and kissing the curve of her neck.
“Leon...” she whispered.
“Shh. Don’t say anything,” he murmured against her skin.
The staff tried to look away, but they couldn’t completely disappear.
He kissed her shoulder again, slow and possessive. Then her collarbone. His hands didn’t stop moving, trailing up her arms, around her waist, everywhere.
“You like this one?” he asked between kisses.
“I... I don’t know.”
“Let me help you decide.”
He spun her around and kissed her—on the lips this time. Soft, but unyielding. His hand cupped her cheek, the other on her back.
She melted. Her hands clenched his shirt. The world blurred. She didn’t care that they had an audience. It was just him. Just his lips. Just his voice whispering against her mouth.
“I want you to know something,” he said, pulling back slightly. “This isn’t just about the contract.”
She looked at him, breathing uneven. “What is it about then?”
He leaned in again. “It’s about how you make me feel.”
She stared up at him, searching his eyes. “You barely know me.”
“I know enough. Enough to want more.”
He kissed her again, firmer this time, with more purpose.
Then, suddenly, he stepped back.
“That’s enough for now,” he said, voice back to his usual commanding tone.
She blinked. “What?”
“You’re overwhelmed.”
“No, I—”
“I said enough.” He turned to the staff. “Wrap these up. Send them to her room.”
They nodded quickly and began gathering the selected dresses.
Leon walked to the door.
“Where are you going?” she called.
He glanced back over his shoulder, smirking. “Don’t worry. I’m not far. But next time... don’t just stand there when I kiss you.”
She blinked. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me.”
Dinner is at eight. Be ready. Wear red.
And with that, he walked out, leaving her stunned, breathless, and burning all over again.
- Writer
