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Summary
“Hey, I can hear your thoughts from here,” Wriothesley says softly.
“Distract me, then.” Neuvillette is so very tired, but he puts his phone on speaker and holds it back, to swipe through the full set of photos Wriothesley sent.
Black lace clings to a broad chest, accented by a D-ring collar across the throat. The gems that drip down from the silk finishings are sapphire.
The next image is all pink lace, with a feminine touch, bows lining the trimmings.
A full piece bodysuit, all intricate, navy lace is the last image. This one is scattered with silver gems, and it shimmers beneath the light. It’s beautiful. The way it cinches in Wriothesley’s waist reminds Neuvillette of a corset.
Merde.
- Wriothesley calls Neuvillette while he works into the early hours of the morning, erotic photographs in tow. Perhaps a touch of stress relief is in order.
Series