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I shake my head. “Not yet.” I close the space between us, close enough to see the lust and fear fighting for control in her eyes. “One more command.”
“What is it?”
“Strip.”
5
EMILY
The command he just issued hangs in the air, thick and undeniable. I’m caught between fear and a strange, compelling desire to obey. I shake my head, unable to comply.
“I can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“No man has ever seen me naked before.”
“It wasn’t a request,” he replies, his voice low and commanding, sending a shiver down my spine. His manner is frightening but undeniably arousing.
I see the darkness in his eyes and it terrifies me to think what might happen if I refuse again. He could hurt me, or worse, send me away to my death.
No, he would never do that. I know deep in my soul he would never hurt me. More than that. I want to do this. I’m obsessed with him. I want him to see what life with me could be like, that I’m more than just an innocent young woman.
With trembling hands, I unbutton my blouse, feeling the weight of his gaze upon me. Each small movement releases a wave of vulnerability that sweeps through my body.
The cool air brushes against my skin as I slip the fabric off my shoulders, exposing the lace-trimmed bra that barely contains my racing heart.
He watches intently, his eyes fixated on every inch of uncovered flesh. There is hunger in his gaze, a raw desire that sends ripples of electricity surging through me.
It’s as if he sees beneath the layers of clothing and into the depths of my soul, unraveling the hidden parts of me I never knew existed.
Slowly, I slide the skirt down my hips, revealing the matching lace panties that cling to my trembling thighs.
The simple act of undressing becomes an act of self-discovery, a shedding of inhibitions and expectations. I am revealing not only my physical form but also a part of my spirit that longs to be seen and understood.
In this moment, vulnerability becomes strength, and submission transforms into empowerment.
I stand before him, exposed and vulnerable, yet filled with a newfound sense of liberation. There is a palpable shift in the air, as if time has momentarily ceased to exist within the confines of the library.
His gaze lingers on me, tracing the curves of my body with an intensity that sends my heart racing.
For a brief moment, doubt clouds my mind. I question whether I have made the right choice, whether this act of surrender will bring me closer to him or push me further away.
His face remains impassive, his eyes holding mine in an unbreakable gaze. It is then that he reaches out, his hand extending towards me. As it brushes against my cheek, a surge of warmth radiates through my entire being.
There is tenderness in his touch, a gentle reassurance that I have made the right decision.
“Thank you for trusting me,” he whispers, his voice carrying a weight that resonates deep within me. “You have shown me a part of you that no other man will ever get to see.”
As he begins to strip away his shirt, revealing the canvas of his torso, I’m instantly drawn to the intricate tapestry of tattoos and scars adorning his skin. The phoenix on his shoulder, with its wings spread wide, captures my attention first. It’s a symbol of rebirth, powerful and vibrant against his skin.
“That’s... quite a tattoo,” I say, my voice a mix of awe and curiosity.
He touches the phoenix lightly, a reflective look in his eyes. “My father’s death. I had to rebuild the empire from nothing, rise from the ruins of my enemy’s making.”
My gaze shifts to a series of numbers inked boldly on his forearm. “And these?” I ask.
“The dates of my parents’ deaths,” he explains, his voice devoid of emotion.
