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"Strip"
he said, his voice smooth but firm, each word dripping with command.
The room felt smaller, the air heavier. My heart skipped, a mix of nervousness and undeniable attraction tightening in my chest. His gaze burned into me, dark and unrelenting, leaving no room for hesitation, no chance to question.
"I... what?"
My voice came out quieter than I wanted, barely audible over the sound of my own heartbeat.
He tilted his head, his smirk turning almost cruel.
"Don’t make me repeat myself, Miles,"
he said, his tone sharper now, a thread of impatience laced with the heat of his intensity.
"You heard me the first time. Take. Them. Off."
My hands trembled as they hovered over the hem of my shirt. I feel resistance is impossible infront of him.
As I slowly started pulling my shirt over my head, his eyes never left me, roaming over my exposed skin like he was savoring every second.
When my shirt hit the floor, I hesitated, my fingers hovering at the waistband of my pants. His lips parted slightly, and his voice dropped even lower.
"Good boy,"
he murmured, the praise sending a shiver down my spine.
