She stood across the room, the lamplight painting golden edges along her silhouette. “Don’t move,” she said, voice low but final.
He obeyed.
She turned around, giving him her back. The zipper of her dress glinted for a moment, then disappeared under her hair. Her hands reached behind, fingers catching the pull—slow, precise. The sound of the zipper descending was almost too soft to hear… but far too loud to ignore.
Inch by inch, the dress parted.
It slipped from her shoulders, revealing the curve of her spine, then her hips, then her legs, as it pooled soundlessly at her feet. She didn’t face him.
Not yet.
She stood there, naked but unhurried, letting him feel every second of being still—being commanded. His muscles tensed, not from resistance, but from sheer restraint.
And when she finally turned, her eyes said what her mouth didn’t need to.
She had undressed herself—but undone him completely.