Zara had the green dress all unlaced and ready for Lucy when she came out of the steamy bathroom. She even had some weird undergarments picked out for her.
“What are those?” Lucy asked Zara.
Zara blushed. “The King likes for us to wear them. They protect our chastity for him.”
Lucy leaned down and examined the shiny, intricately braided underwear.
“I’ll bet they do. Jesus, it’s made of metal!” Lucy cried, holding them up on the tip of her finger.
“Yes,” Zara nodded. “And they lock onto you. Yours can only be unlocked with this key.” She held a little black key up. “The wives keep the keys for one another. So no man besides the King can unlock them.”
“Yeah,” Lucy said as she tossed the garment back on the bed. “I’m gonna go ahead and go commando.”
“Commando?” Zara asked, cocking her head to one side.
“No undies. Breeze between the knees.”
Zara laughed and clapped a hand over her mouth. “But the King demands we wear them!”
“Does he ever check?”
“Well,” Zara said and pulled uncomfortably at her choker. “I guess not.”
“Ok, then I’m gonna pass.” Lucy tossed them into the wardrobe where they fell with a little metallic jingle.
Zara looked like she wanted to say more, but instead she just held up the dress for Lucy to step into. They got the dress buttoned about half way up before they sagged against each other, panting.
“Yikes. Got anything a size up?” Lucy asked.
Zara sucked her lips in and tried to hold back a giggle. She shook her head. “They’re all the same size.”
“Oh my god!” Lucy exclaimed, eyeing herself in the gilded mirror on the wall. “I can’t go out there like this. It looks like my boobs are eating me.”
Both Zara and Lucy burst out laughing. Lucy was right, her breasts were bursting out the top of her dress, the fabric straining to accommodate her voluptuous figure. Suddenly the door to her chambers opened.
“Is everything alright?” Amos froze solid when he entered the room. He cleared his throat. “You’re laughing. Sorry. I wasn’t sure what the noise was.”
He turned to leave but Lucy stepped toward him as if they were bound by some electric thread. “Wait, we need help.”
He paused at the door but didn’t look at her.
“We can’t get my dress closed. We need someone strong.”
Zara’s eyes darted back and forth between Lucy and Amos. Zara was young, but she wasn’t dumb, she took a step backwards and tried to fade in with the tapestries.
“That’s ridiculous,” Amos growled.
Lucy didn’t back down. “I’m serious. We can’t get this thing on. And unless you want me to go see the King looking like this…”
She gestured to her breasts that were basically falling out of her dress and she hadn’t even finished speaking before Amos had come to stand behind her.
His fingers quickly did up button after button. He got to the buttons at the top, the ones her breasts were preventing from closing, and he firmly yanked the fabric. Lucy let out a little gasping breath as the dress constricted her. She felt Amos’s breath feather over her neck and shoulders.
He was pretending to be cold to her, but Lucy could feel the heat between them. Every light scrape of his fingers against the smooth skin of her back sent waves of electricity between her legs. He finally did up the last button and the fabric strained around her chest, creating some of the most fantastic cleavage she’d ever had.
“Thank you, Amos,” she whispered.
His eyes shot up to meet hers in the mirror when she said his name. Her mouth parted and she ran her tongue over her bottom lip. He cleared his throat and took a step back from her.
“The King is waiting,” he said and strode out of the room.
So, he was going without acknowledging what happened last night. It bothered Lucy more than she wanted to admit. She was usually fine with a one-and-done. But there was something about Amos. She wanted him again.
CHAPTER TEN
Amos was absolutely NOT looking at Lucy as she sat at the King’s knee. She was the last in the row of wives. The King was reading aloud from the Kingdom scripture, as he did every morning and Lucy’s eyes were closed, her chin resting on her palm.
But Amos didn’t even really notice that, because he wasn’t looking at her. He hadn’t looked at her as she’d walked down the hallway in that tight little excuse for a dress. He hadn’t watched her whisper something in Zara’s ear, making the girl smile. And he definitely hadn’t watched as she’d gathered her long skirt around her to sit in her assigned chair.