Georgia’s POV
I smiled, feeling my chest warm. "Where is everyone?" I asked, glancing around.
"Katie tired them all out," he said with a chuckle. "She tried on her dress tonight and insisted that Amara and Nora help her fix her hair and put on makeup that Mom gave her. She also bought Katie so nail polish, all kid-friendly, don’t worry. By the ti they were done, all three of them were ready to collapse. They waited for to get ho before heading to bed."
I laughed softly. "That sounds like her." I stretched my arms above my head. "I’m heading to our room. I need a shower—I feel so hot."
Nick set his laptop aside and stood up in one smooth motion, catching my wrist before I could leave. "I’ll go with you," he said, voice playful but filled with that familiar intent.
I just gave him a knowing smile and walked off toward the bathroom. Thankfully, he didn’t follow—or that shower would’ve turned into sothing entirely different.
Afterward, wrapped in a towel, I walked into the walk-in closet and caught sight of my reflection in the mirror. I paused, rembering what the seamstress said earlier. My gaze traced my reflection—was it true? Did I really gain weight?
Just as I was turning to check my side, the door opened and Nick stepped in. "What are you doing?" he asked, sounding amused. "Aren’t you coming to bed yet?"
I frowned, pouting a little as I faced the mirror, still completely naked. "My wedding gown needed adjustnts because apparently I got fat," I said, pointing to my reflection. "Do I look fat to you?"
Nick ca up behind , his eyes scanning my body through the mirror. "You did? Looks the sa to ," he murmured, his tone casual but his gaze anything but that.
"The seamstress said my hips and bust got bigger, so she’s adjusting those parts," I muttered, turning a little to check the side of my waist.
Nick’s hands slid around my hips, turning gently. "Hmm..." he said, inspecting like he was evaluating evidence. "Looks the sa to ." His lips quirked as his hands rose higher. "Let check the bust part."
Before I could protest, his palms cupped my breasts, kneading them gently as if he were making a very thorough inspection.
"Nick!" I exclaid, rolling my eyes but unable to keep a laugh from escaping. "What are you doing?!"
He t my gaze in the mirror with that wicked smirk I knew too well. "Just checking if the seamstress is right," he said innocently. "I see this every day, and she doesn’t. I know better."
I sighed, half amused, half exasperated. "I know what you’re doing," I said, though the smile tugging on my lips was very obvious.
He chuckled softly, still holding close. "Then stop worrying about the dress, baby. You’re perfect just the way you are."
Nick’s reflection t mine in the mirror, his eyes dark and unreadable, but his smirk gave him away. His fingers trailed lazily down my arms, leaving goosebumps in their wake before they settled at my waist.
"You’re staring at yourself too seriously," he murmured. "You look beautiful, Georgia. Always have."
I tried to suppress a smile, but my reflection betrayed . "You’re just saying that."
He leaned closer, his breath brushing against my ear. "No," he whispered. "You just don’t see what I see."
My breath hitched when his hands skimd the curve of my waist, tracing slow, teasing lines that made my knees feel unsteady. I was hyperaware of everything—the sound of my heartbeat, the faint scent of his shower gel, the heat of his body behind mine.
"Keep your eyes on the mirror," he said softly, his tone carrying that familiar authority that always sent a thrill through .
I did as he said, watching his gaze travel over in the reflection, his expression full of quiet admiration.
"See?" he said, his lips brushing the side of my neck as he spoke. "Not a flaw in sight."
I closed my eyes briefly, but he tutted gently. "Ah-ah... I said, keep looking," he whispered, his voice lting into sothing playful and tender all at once.
My eyes fluttered open again, eting his in the mirror. The way he looked at —like I was the only thing in his world right now—made my pulse race faster than any words could.
Then, slowly, he lowered his head and pressed a soft kiss to the base of my neck near my shoulder. My reflection blurred for a second as I drew in a shaky breath, torn between laughter and surrender.
"Nick..." I murmured, half scolding, half smiling.
He chuckled against my skin. "Just reminding you what you do to ," he said. "So stop doubting yourself. You will be perfect in your wedding dress or no dress at all. I prefer the latter, just like what I am seeing right now."
Nick’s touch made draw in a shaky breath—one hand resting over my chest, the other tracing its way down my body with excruciating slowness.
Every brush of his fingers sent ripples through , and I couldn’t stop the small sound that escaped my throat. My head tilted back, finding the solid comfort of his chest behind .
"I know you’re tired tonight," he murmured against my skin, his voice low, rough, and far too convincing. "So I’ll be gentle."
A shiver ran through when I felt the heat of his breath at my neck, then the slow drag of his tongue against my skin. I tried to protest, tried to think of the presentation I had tomorrow, but all logic was slipping away, replaced by the soft ache blooming inside .
"Nick," I managed to whisper, though it ca out more like a plea than a warning. "We should sleep early..."
"I know," he said, his tone dipping even lower. "That’s why you need to relax first. If I let you go now, you’ll just stay awake worrying about tomorrow. Let help," he added, before rubbing my clit in delicious circles.
There was sothing about the way he said it—calm, certain, as if he already knew I’d give in. And he was right. My pulse was already racing, my resolve crumbling with every teasing motion of his hands.
"Okay," I breathed out finally, closing my eyes for a mont before opening them again to et his gaze in the mirror. "But just one round."
His lips curved into a slow, dangerous smile. "Then I’ll make it count," he whispered.
He turned slightly, until my back t the cool surface of the cabinet. His hands frad my hips, his eyes dark with intent.
"Don’t look away," he said softly, his reflection moving closer until his breath brushed my skin again. "I want you to see what I see."
"Don’t remove your eyes from the mirror," he said before kneeling down in front of .
*******
Thank you for the Golden Tickets!
Seana4
Edna_R2679
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