Michael's POV
The instant Allyson entered my office, I could see the war raging inside her body.
Her cheeks were burning with heat, her chest rising and falling in rapid bursts.
My gaze swept over every inch of her.
She was absolutely stunning in the outfit I had handpicked for her.
The stylist had delivered an entire wardrobe, but I had personally selected each item. The gown. The undergarments.
Everything touching her skin had been chosen by me.
Christ, I had this twisted compulsion to mark her as mine.
And she looked absolutely flawless.
The Wayne McQueen creation molded to her curves, accentuating every dip and swell of her body.
My eyes devoured her - those perfect hips, her long silky legs advancing toward me in those crimson heels, offering teasing glimpses of her golden inner thighs.
