“I do,” I admit. “It’s just?—”
“Silence.”
The word cracks through the space like a whip.
And my body obeys before my mind catches up.
He’s not asking.
He’s taking.
And I’m letting him.
Because whatever shame I once tied to that fantasy, whatever fear I thought would stop me from living it—none of it survives under his gaze. Not here. Not now. There is no shame in surrendering to someone who sees you down to the bone and chooses to stay.
His voice drops. Lethal. Quiet.
“You will not serve me fully clothed.”
I flinch, already breathless. “We don’t have to?—”
He tightens his grip in my hair, a sharp tug that steals the end of the sentence.
“Did I stutter?”
I freeze. Not in fear. In recognition.
This is it.
This is the moment I’ve read about, dreamed about,feared. The one where it stops being hypothetical and becomes something else entirely. Something elemental. Something sacred.
My hands rise to the hem of my shirt.
They don’t shake. Not visibly. But inside, I’m trembling all over.
I undress.
Not seductively. Not slowly. Just—honestly. Shirt. Bra. Jeans. All of it slides to the floor with a whisper that feels deafening.
The cool air brushes against my skin, and for the first time in my life, I am truly naked in front of someone—not because I’ve taken off my clothes, but because I’ve laid bare the part of me I’ve never even looked at too closely.
Cooper hasn’t moved.
But his eyes are on me. Not ogling. Not assessing.
Claiming.
I step toward him.
Closer. Closer still. I stand between his legs, heartbeat in my throat, heat pooling between my legs like a confession I can’t swallow.
He’s still silent.
And the silence speaks louder than any command.
I lower to my knees.
TWENTY
