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CHAPTER 86

The evening of the Zorich Group’s party had finally arrived, and I stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the delicate straps of the dress that Thiago had picked out for me.

I had initially insisted on choosing something myself, but when Thiago showed me this gown—sleek, shimmering silver with intricate beading that caught the light in all the right places—I couldn’t resist not wearing it. For some reason, my husband has a pretty good taste about choosing occasional dresses for me.

Whenever I ask him how he get the perfect taste I would want for a dress, he would often tease me that he always imagine the perfect dress he would want to unwrapped before fucking me hard. And damn that often leave my thighs shaking.

I couldn’t blame him. The dress on me was pretty inviting as the fabric hugged my figure perfectly, cascading down to the floor in a flowing silhouette. It was undeniably glamorous, a showstopper, and I felt like royalty.

Thiago had outdone himself. I had never seen a dress
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