When I walked into the atelier, I instantly knew something was different.
The mannequins were gone. The sewing machines covered. The air was heavier thick with purpose and desire.
And in the middle of the room stood a single dress.
Not a wedding dress.
Not lace or tulle.
It was silk white and sleeveless, but strategically cut. It exposed more than it covered. The bodice was a teasing cage of diagonal silk strips that crisscrossed over my breasts but left my n*****s barely shielded. The skirt hung in two long panels, split wide in the front, flowing to the floor like water. Every inch invited sin.
“I made this just for tonight,” Leon said.
He stepped out from behind a curtain. His eyes were darker than I’d ever seen them.
“Try it on. No bra. No panties. I want to see your skin frame
