She laid on her back on the bed, her hands clutching the hem of her sweater as if it were a lifeline. His voice, steady and low, still hung in the air. “I want to see you. All of you.” The words sent a ripple through her, half thrill, half ache, making her skin prickle as if his gaze had already stripped her bare.

She hesitated, her pulse quickening. The quiet between them seemed louder than it had any right to be, pressing against her like the weight of his expectation. It wasn’t just the idea of nudity that unnerved her—it was the thought of being laid bare in front of him. To be there, stripped of every pretense, every layer that had protected her from his gaze. So vulnerable and open, no barriers between them. It made her flustered, to show herself, open herself like this. She knew what he wanted, to see it all. Her breathing hitched.

She swallowed hard, looking at him. He hadn’t moved, his posture relaxed yet charged with quiet authority. His eyes held hers, patient but insistent, like he already knew the war raging inside her. He didn’t rush her. That almost made it worse. Because she knew he wouldn’t let it go, he wanted it, and he knew that secretly she wanted it too. Behind all the layers of shyness and insecurity, embarrassment, fear, behind her being overwhelmed, flustered, and more. Behind all of that, he knew she secretly wanted that. Wanted him to challenge all these emotions and help her overcome the stigma and modesty anchored in the corner of her mind.

Her fingers trembled as she began to lift the sweater, the fabric catching briefly on her skin. A flash of her stomach, bare, soft, exposed, made her heart lurch. With a breath that felt like it might crack her ribs, she tugged the sweater over her head and let it drop to the floor. She looked at him again. The way his gaze softened, as though he wasn’t just waiting to see her but waiting to receive her. She swallowed again as she watched his eyes raking over her body and heard his gasp. He cursed, biting his lip, loving the view in front of him. He praised her and complimented her, a genuine expression of his worship. But she wasn’t done yet.

“The rest.”

Two words rippling through her mind and she clenched her fingers for a moment. The silence stretched, and she felt the heat crawl up her neck, spreading across her cheeks. Slowly, she reached for her waistband and stripped off her underwear, the only barrier between her naked body and his eyes. Once they were off, she grimaced. Her legs pressed together as she leaned back a little. Completely Nude.

His gaze never wavered. He didn’t devour her the way she’d feared, like someone greedy and careless. Instead, he studied her, his expression unreadable but reverent, as though she were something precious. She was nervous under his look, her stomach slightly sucked in and her legs pressed together. He praised her. Complimented her. The most perfect body he’s ever seen, the most beautiful woman, the most attractive person. She blushed.

He could feel her softening and knew, time for the next step. He wanted to see all. All of her. Bared for him. Showed off for his eyes only in their intimate moment of unwavering desire and affection. He wanted her. He wanted her to comfortably show herself, give herself to him in the most precious way.

“Sit down. Open your legs for me.”

She blushed and hesitated, he could see the conflict in herself. He watched her every movement, the tremble in her hands and the nervous grimace on her face, the way she clenched her thighs close as she sat down. And he just waited.

She knew she could stop this, if she was too uncomfortable and spoke up he would understand. He wouldn’t make her do anything she didn’t want to. She knew he’d accept her choices. But she didn’t speak up. There was this small swirling sensation in her stomach.

Slowly, she spread her legs apart for him. Thoughts running through her mind about how she would look like, if it was appealing, what if he suddenly found this position unattractive?

He breathed out hard. “Fucking gorgeous…”

Another hot blush crept up her neck and cheeks, coating her face in warmth. She smiled shyly, squirming under his gaze as he took her in completely. His hunger spoke volumes and he groaned full of desire. He wasn’t done yet.

“Spread yourself for me…”

She sucked in her lips, her legs closing a bit on instinct as her eyes widened in surprise. Heat flowed through her, like lava burning in every part of her body. He wanted to see all of her? All? All. She hesitated. He waited. And it made it worse almost, his patient knowing gaze resting on her body, sneaking between the closed ooff spot between her legs. She squirmed and shook her head, burying her red face in her arms. But he wouldn’t let it go. And he knew there was this tiny part of her wanting it too. He was determined to coax this part out of her.

He talked her through. Praise and affection, compliments and the softness of his voice. There was nothing wrong in showing herself, he’s seen it all before anyways. Just not like this. Just not spread by her. And he loved seeing her. He wanted it. There was nothing she could do or say to change his mind.

Her fingers gingerly reached between her legs, her index fingers and ring fingers placed on either side. Every instinct screamed at her to stop, to retreat, to laugh it off. The embarrassment was like a fire licking at her edges, threatening to consume her. And yet, beneath the discomfort, there was a thrill she couldn’t deny. Her skin felt hypersensitive, every inch of her body aware of how exposed she was—how vulnerable.

Slowly, she spread herself, a tiny bit. Her breath staggered as a sticky noise filled the room, evidence of her arousal. The cold air hit her slickness and she gasped lightly, bracing herself for his reaction to her exposed form. Restlessness moved in her limps and her heart hammered in her chest, so loud she almost couldn’t hear what he said.

“You’re beautiful,” he said, his voice quiet but firm, like a truth he wouldn’t let her deny.

The words sank into her, melting away some of the shame, replacing it with a warmth that spread from her chest outward. Vulnerability had never felt this raw, this terrifying, and yet, in his eyes, she saw no judgment. Only acceptance. Desire. Attraction. Affection. And maybe, something more.