Bruno is watching me. His eyes track every movement I make. Every breath I take.
"Lock it," he says.
I turn the lock.
"Come here."
I walk back to him. Slowly this time. Letting him watch me move.
His hands grip the armrests of his wheelchair. His knuckles are white.
I stop in front of him.
"Take off your clothes."
The command sends heat rushing through me.
"Bruno—"
"I want to see you." His voice drops lower. "All of you. Take off your clothes."
My hands tremble as I reach for the hem of my shirt.
I pull it over my head.
I'm wearing a simple white bra underneath. Nothing fancy.
Bruno's eyes drop to my chest. His jaw tightens.
"Keep going."
I reach behind my back and unhook my bra. It falls to the floor.
I've never felt more exposed. More vulnerable. Standing half-naked in front of a man who watches me like I'm the only thing in the world worth looking at.
"The rest," he says. His voice is barely above a whisper now.
I unbutton my jeans. Slide them down my hips. Step out of them.
I'm left in nothing but my underwear.
Bruno's hands grip the armrests so hard I think he might break them.
"Those too."
I hook my thumbs into the waistband.
I push my underwear down my legs and step out of them.
I stand before him completely naked.
The silence stretches between us. Heavy. Charged.
Bruno doesn't move. Doesn't reach for me. Just looks.
His gaze travels down my body. Slow. Deliberate. Taking in every curve, every inch of exposed skin.
"Come here," he finally says.