*Lena*

Xander’s hands roughly looked for a way to get me out of my dress, but even I didn’t know where the clasps of my bodice began. He looked me in the eyes, those obsidian, crimson-flaked pools glittering with mischief as he grabbed a fistful of fabric from my skirt and tore the skirt open in one single motion.

“Xander!”

“I’ll buy you a new one,” he growled, bending over me to ...