The spooky goth babe has arrived πŸ–€πŸˆβ€β¬›

CINDER IS HERE! CAN YOU BELIEVE IT?! 🀯🀯

IT’S RELEASE DAY!!! HURRRRAAAAY! πŸŽ‰πŸŽŠπŸ”₯

Break out the pumpkin spice, and goth platform boots! Time to boogie. πŸπŸŽƒπŸ‘’

And I want to celebrate with you, my favorite hellraiser! πŸ˜ˆπŸ’• And what better way than to reveal a spicy little sneak peek into this fairytale retelling. πŸ“–πŸŒΆοΈ

If you haven’t been able to tell by now, this ain’t yer mother’s fairytale! πŸ˜œπŸ™…β€β™€οΈπŸ‘‘

β€œI do have to warn you, my dark princess, this dinner is going to be unbearably boring,” he says dryly. β€œIn fact, it promises to be so stifling and pretentious that we very well may die.”

β€œFantastic,” I say in a flat voice. β€œCan’t wait.”

β€œWhich is why,” he draws out the last word like an excited kid, β€œI thought we could have a little fun.” From his pocket, he pulls out a pair of dark purple panties that are strappy, lacy, and have something heavier set against the crotch.

β€œWhat are those?”

The question is out before I can stop myself.
Kaison looks back and forth between me and the scrap of fabric.

β€œWhy, my darling bride, these are the answer to surviving a night of dull nonsense and barely restrained dismay.”

β€œYou want me,” I point at myself, before pointing at the underwear, β€œto wear those?”

One dark brow dips as he regards them again. β€œWell, I suppose I could shimmy them on, but I do maintain they will be a far better time for you.”

A far better time.

Oh sweet fae lords, the piece on the crotch is a vibrator. They are massaging panties, and he is suggesting I put them on. For dinner.

β€œHowβ€”how can those even work? There are no electronics in Midnight.”

There’s a devilish gleam in his eye. β€œI smuggled in batteries.” The last word comes out as a low hiss of conspiracy.

I shake my head despite the heat swirling and coiling around my lower belly at the thought.

β€œOh, come on, Cinder,” he says, his voice dropping to a low timbre that has my nipples wrenching into tight, sensitive buds. I’m starting to doubt the decision to pierce my nipples, as it makes my reactions to Charming all the more intense.
β€œAfter all, my little black rose,” he drawls, setting a hand on either arm of the chair I’m in, caging me in, β€œthe panties don’t have fangs.”

His words are equal parts seduction and challenge.
With an unladylike snort, I snatch the underwear from his hands. His eyes widen as he stands back, giving me room. It’s almost as if he didn’t believe I’d actually do it.

It’s not a good habit to fall into, intentionally trying to shock him, because he might think I want more of his attention than I do.
But I can’t help but delight in the way he pales when I bend over, pulling them right over my feet to draw them up my legs.
Take that prince slut muffin. I can play too.

β€œDon’t you need to take off—” He swallows hard while pulling at his collar.

β€œI’m not wearing any,” I cut him off.

I want to laugh. Kaison, the fairy prince who has slept with likely hundreds, if not thousands of willing partners, is acting like a wolfish cartoon character whose tongue has rolled out of his head while his eyes turn into little fires.

His reaction is so satisfying I almost believe I’m not an idiot for putting these panties on.

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