Chapter 441 The Wedding Dress
Unlike her clumsy method, Damian stripped her clean as if peeling an egg in no time.
Ashley, both embarrassed and annoyed, grabbed a piece of clothing to cover herself, "I don't need Mr. Hearst's service. I've been dressing myself since I was three or four!"
Damian looked her up and down from head to toe, and after confirming, handed her the smallest size slip dress, "Do you want to change inside or here?"
He didn't even listen to her!
Ashley was about to wrinkle the silk nightgown in her hand, and with a forced smile, she said, "Since Mr. Hearst wants to watch, how can I disappoint?"
With that, she boldly put on the nightgown in front of him. The slippery fabric slid down to her knees as soon as it passed over her head, perfectly showcasing her curves.
Some clothes, when worn, look like they're not worn, yet they better highlight the curves. The elegant and cool Klein blue, paired with Ashley's good figure, collided with the cool blue tone to create double the beauty.
The exposed skin was like diamonds in a ring setting, more dazzling than the stars and the moon.
Damian's momentary daze was the highest compliment.
He couldn't help but wrap his arms around her shoulders, standing behind her facing the large floor mirror. As his palm caressed her skin, Ashley's skin heated up, turning a faint red, making her a complete enchantress.
Damian's lips slowly moved to her shoulder, biting lightly and leaving a faint mark, his voice seductive like a dark night spell, "I really want to make love to you right now."
Ashley shivered under his touch, admiring the person in the mirror, and teased, "It seems my charm is not small. Just a piece of clothing can make Mr. Hearst lose control on the spot. Can I consider that I've mastered the key to conquering you?"
Damian played with the thin strap on her shoulder, his breath spraying on her skin, "It's a bit early to say you've mastered the key. Continue."
After the first time, everything else became much more natural.
Ashley found that sometimes people just lack the courage to close their eyes. Once you step over the threshold and overcome the psychological barrier, any bottom line becomes irrelevant.
For example, now she had tried on the tenth dress, gradually getting into the role, pretending to be a soulless model. Isn't that what artists should do? Otherwise, where would the nude models for world-famous paintings auctioned for tens of millions or even hundreds of millions of dollars come from?
Damian leaned against the decorative rack, one long leg bent, just watching her change clothes.
Different colors, styles, long, short, fitted, loose, he never got tired of it.
He seemed addicted, wanting to give her all the clothes, making her wear something different every day just for him to see, only for him.
In the end, Ashley was so tired from changing clothes that her arms were sore, and she had no good face left, "Is it enough?"
She couldn't remember how many she had tried on. Judging by the dust bags on the floor, there were at least thirty.
Damian glanced at the short red dress she was wearing and said with satisfaction, "It's enough. Go change."
Ashley gritted her teeth and deliberately said loudly, "Yes! Mr. Hearst!"
Damian picked up his clothes from the sofa and walked into the fitting room leisurely, grabbing Ashley's slender waist on the way, "I've held back for so long, don't I get a little reward?"
His sudden embrace caught Ashley off guard, and she slipped into her slippers, falling straight into his arms. The friction between their nightgowns was almost indistinguishable from skin contact, the heat spreading from his chest to her heart, with no boundaries.
Damian took a deep breath, and his lips fiercely buried down!
By the time Ashley felt his onslaught, she was already in the spacious fitting room, held tightly by him.
Damian closed the door with one hand and pressed her onto the leather bench with the other, deepening the kiss.
The bench was narrow and not long enough. Ashley's upper body was laid out on it, her legs extended to the floor, tightly clamped by Damian, unable to move. The gossamer-like nightgown was practically useless, quickly pushed up to her neck.
"Damian, what are you doing? This is a fitting room, are you crazy?"
Damian's eyes were bloodshot, like a hungry wolf seeing its prey, his whole body signaling only one thing: kill!
Damian's voice was extremely hoarse, the heavy nasal tone sounding like he had a severe cold, but far more textured and intimidating, "Do you think I can still hold back?"
Ashley didn't need to look to know, and she was too embarrassed to look. She could clearly feel it.
Damian! He's gone mad!
"Wait!" Ashley clung to the last bit of sanity, prying his arm away, and took a breath, "Close your eyes and don't look at me. I'll quickly get dressed, and we can talk about it at home, okay? This space is so small, my back is rubbing painfully, the experience is too bad."
Turning her head, she saw the mirror in the fitting room, their intertwined figures magnifying the shame.
She really wanted to dig a hole with her toes and bury herself on the spot.
Damian clenched his fists, using great effort to close his eyes and suppress the desire to conquer, hoarsely saying, "Okay."
Ashley narrowly escaped, breathing a sigh of relief, hiding in the corner, and quickly changing clothes.
Although Damian didn't look at her, her figure was everywhere in the mirror, every movement igniting his fire.
Ashley was really driving him crazy.
Moments later, Damian was back to his well-dressed self, as if nothing had happened.
Ashley fixed her hair, took his arm, and naturally pulled out a smile.
She wasn't as strong as Damian inside. Her calmness was forced, the waves inside still roaring, not daring to look back at the fitting room.
They went downstairs, the manager and waitstaff nodding obsequiously, "Sir, ma'am, did you find any styles you liked?"
Ashley pursed her lips, glancing sideways at Damian.
He coldly said without a trace of emotion, "Pack all the dresses that fit her size."
Ashley was stunned.
She had learned something new. So this was Damian's style of buying clothes?
The manager's joy was like a firework exploding, probably feeling the instant joy of winning the lottery, hurriedly saying, "Yes, sir. And for the gentleman?"
This time, Ashley had to say something, "The few pieces on the rack by the fitting room door are his size."
"Yes, yes!"
Damian pulled out a black card, tapping it with his long finger, "Send the clothes and the bill together."
Seeing the card, the manager understood everything. This was the biggest patron they had been eagerly awaiting but dared not discuss privately!
The manager, afraid of not serving well enough, eagerly said with a smile, "Next month, we will have a batch of handmade custom dresses in the store, very suitable for this lady's temperament. Additionally, if you two want to order wedding dresses, we can also schedule a designer for you in advance. The production cycle for wedding dresses is quite long, taking about six months."
Ashley quickly said, "No..." No need! They had no plans to get married, no such idea.
Damian calmly said, "Okay."
A female sales assistant couldn't help but exclaim, "Wow! So envious! Congratulations!"
Others followed suit, "Congratulations to you both, wishing you a lifetime of happiness!"
Ashley was speechless.
She never wanted to come back.
Under the surprised, admiring, and envious gazes of the waitstaff, Ashley hurriedly pulled Damian out of the store.
Staying one more second, she feared being stared into a sieve.
In the car, Damian frowned, "Are you so stingy with me? You don't have to spend money, and you only picked a few pieces for me?"
Ashley pulled the seatbelt and buckled it, her face unchanged, "I just thought those few pieces looked good on you. The others didn't suit you. If you like, I can go back and tell them."
This answer somewhat worked, and Damian started the car, "Where else do you want to go?"
"Wherever I say, we go?"
"Consider it your reward. Speak."
Reward? Why did he always imply she was a mistress?
Fine, since he was so generous, she wouldn't be polite, "To see someone."
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