"Miles," I whispered, not sure what I was asking for but knowing I wanted something more than words could express.
His hands tightened slightly at my waist, and I watched his gaze drop to my lips with an intensity that made my breathcatch. "Lilianna," he said softly, my name sounding different in his deeper voice. "Are you sure?"
Instead of answering with words, I rose up on my toes, closing the distance between us. His lips met mine with a hunger that was barely restrained, different from Julian's careful gentleness but no less perfect. Where Julian had been teaching, Miles was claiming—his mouth moving against mine with a confidence that made my knees weak and my hands fist in his shirt.
He tasted like morning coffee and something uniquely him, earthy and warm. When his tongue traced my lower lip, I gasped, and he took advantage of the opening to deepen the kiss. The sensation sent heat spiraling through me, pooling low in my belly in a way that made me press closer to him instinctively. Miles groaned softly at my response, one hand sliding up to tangle in my hair while the other remained firm at my waist, anchoring me against him.
When we finally broke apart, both of us were breathing hard. Miles rested his forehead against mine, his green eyes blazing with barely controlled desire.
"God, Lilianna," he breathed, his thumb tracing my swollen lips. "You're going to drive us all crazy."
I felt heat flood my cheeks at his words, but also a thrill of feminine power I'd never experienced before. "Is that bad?" I asked softly.
"No," he said firmly, pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead. "It's perfect. You're perfect." He stepped back reluctantly, his hands sliding away from me before he took a step back.
Heat flooded my cheeks at his words, but I didn't look away. "Will you stay while I try it on?”
Miles's eyes darkened at my request, his breath catching audibly. "Are you sure?" he asked, his voice rougher than I'd ever heard it.
I nodded, surprised by my own boldness. "I trust you."
The simple words seemed to affect him deeply. He moved to the window, turning his back to give me privacy while remaining in the room as I'd asked. "Just tell me when you're ready."
My hands trembled slightly as I reached for the zipper of my current dress, hyperaware of his presence even with his back turned. The navy fabric pooled at my feet, and I stepped out of it carefully before lifting the forest green dress from the bed.
The moment the new fabric touched my skin, I understood why Miles had chosen it. The material was impossibly soft, sliding over my curves like water. The cut was more fitted than anything I'd ever worn, following the lines of my body in a way that felt both comfortable and undeniably feminine. The neckline was modest but somehow more flattering than the severe cuts my mother had preferred, and the skirt fell to just below my knees with a gentle flare that moved beautifully as I turned.
"I'm ready," I said softly, my voice barely above a whisper.
Miles turned slowly, and the expression that crossed his face when he saw me made my breath catch. His green eyes darkened as they traveled from my face down to my feet and back up again, lingering in ways that made my skin flush with heat.
"Beautiful," he breathed, his voice thick with emotion. "Absolutely beautiful."
I moved to the mirror, hardly recognizing the woman looking back at me. The dress transformed me—or perhaps it simply revealed who I'd always been beneath the careful layers of repression. I ran my hand through my hair, not used to it being down, when Miles came up behind me.
“Would you like me to do your hair?” He asked, glancing over me for a second.
I turned to face him, surprised by the offer. "You know how to do hair?"
Miles smiled, his hands already reaching toward the strands that had fallen across my shoulder. "I have many hidden talents," he said softly. "May I?"
I nodded, mesmerized by the gentle way his fingers combed through my hair. He guided me to sit at the small vanity, his touch sending shivers down my spine as he gathered the length of it in his hands.
"Just something simple," he murmured, his breath warm against my ear as he worked. "Nothing too complicated and you won’t have any products in your hair.”
I watched in the mirror as he twisted sections of my hair with practiced ease, creating something elegant but effortless-looking. His fingers brushed against my nape as he secured the style, and I couldn't suppress the small gasp that escaped me at the contact.
"There," he said, stepping back to admire his work. "Perfect."
I stared at my reflection in wonder. The soft updo he'd created left gentle tendrils framing my face while showing off the elegant neckline of the dress. I looked... sophisticated. Feminine in a way I'd never been allowed to explore before.
"How did you learn to do that?" I asked, reaching up to touch the delicate arrangement of hair.
"My sister," Miles replied, his expression softening with memory. "Before she mated and moved away, I used to help her get ready for special occasions. She said I had better hands for it than she did."
The casual mention of his family made me realize how little I knew about their lives before me. "Will I meet her someday?"
"I hope so," Miles said, his green eyes warm. "She'd love you. She's always said I needed someone to keep me grounded."
