That’s it… just like that.
Look at you, falling apart the second I take control. Such a good girl when you stop fighting what you want and let me lead you exactly where you need to go.
The room was dim except for the amber glow spilling from the bedside lamp, soft enough to blur the edges of everything except him. Except the way his eyes stayed fixed on her like he already knew every thought racing through her head before she could speak it out loud.
She tried to steady her breathing, but every time he stepped closer, every ounce of composure slipped further away.
“You were craving this all day, weren’t you?” he whispered against her ear.
His voice was low. Calm. Dangerous in the way only confidence could be.
She hated how easily he read her.
The tension between them had been building for weeks…long stares across crowded rooms, teasing comments whispered just low enough to make her heart skip, fingertips brushing for a second too long. Every interaction felt intentional. Like a game he’d already decided he was going to win.
And tonight, he finally stopped pretending.
His hand slid slowly along her waist, pulling her closer until there wasn’t even space left for hesitation between them. Her fingers instinctively gripped the front of his shirt, not to push him away… but to hold herself together.
“Look at me,” he said softly.
And that was her mistake.
Because the second their eyes locked, every carefully built wall inside her cracked.
“There she is,” he whispered, brushing his thumb across her cheek. “The girl who acts so strong until somebody finally gives her permission to let go.”
A shiver rolled through her.
His forehead rested against hers for a moment, slowing everything down just enough to make the anticipation unbearable. The air between them felt heavy—thick with restrained want, unspoken confessions, and the kind of chemistry that made silence louder than words.
“You don’t have to think right now,” he told her. “I’ve got you.”
The reassurance in his voice unraveled her more than dominance ever could.
Her eyes fluttered closed as his lips ghosted along her jawline, slow and deliberate, like he was savoring every reaction he pulled from her. Every breath she lost only seemed to encourage him more.
And when his hand tilted her chin upward again, she realized something dangerous.
With the vulnerable parts too.
The parts she kept hidden beneath confidence and sarcasm and independence.
“Come closer,” he whispered.
He guided her backward slowly, never breaking eye contact, giving her enough time to stop him if she wanted to.
Each step toward the bed felt deliberate, her pulse climbing higher the closer they got. His hand stayed firm at her waist, steadying her while the other brushed gently along her arm, fingertips leaving warmth in their wake.
“You’re shaking,” he stated with a faint smile.
It was anticipation. The kind that settled low in her chest and made every touch feel amplified.
The backs of her knees touched the edge of the mattress, and he paused there, standing between her legs while his gaze moved slowly over her face like he was memorizing every expression she tried to hide.
His fingers slipped beneath the hem of her shirt, brushing against warm skin. He moved carefully, unhurried, watching her the entire time as if the smallest reaction mattered to him.
“Still with me?” he asked quietly.
He lifted the fabric slowly, inch by inch, his knuckles grazing her sides as he pulled it over her head and tossed it carelessly aside. The cool air against her skin made her inhale sharply, but his hands immediately settled against her waist again, grounding her.
“There you are,” he whispered, almost to himself.
The way he looked at her made her feel exposed in a way that had nothing to do with clothes. Seen. Wanted. Adored.
His touch softened then, tracing along her shoulders, down her arms, as though he wanted to savor every second instead of rushing toward the inevitable. He pressed a kiss to her forehead first—unexpectedly tender—before his lips drifted lower to her cheek, her jaw, the sensitive spot beneath her ear that made her grip his shirt tighter.
“You don’t have to hide from me,” he said softly.
And somehow those words undid her more than anything else.
He eased her gently onto the bed, never letting the intensity between them break, his hand sliding along her thigh while he hovered above her. The tension in the room thickened with every breath, every lingering glance, every slow touch that promised he intended to take his time with her.
And she realized, laying there beneath him with her heartbeat racing against her ribs, that this wasn’t about losing control anymore.
It was about finally feeling safe enough to let go.
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