As Isabelle's fingers lingered on the first button, a hush fell over the room, the air thick with anticipation and tension.
She drew in a long, quivering breath, letting her fingers dance delicately over the next button, her movements an art of seduction veiled in reluctance.
Each button surrendered under her touch with a whisper of fabric, revealing more of her porcelain skin, which seemed almost luminescent in the dim light of the room.
The uniform parted slowly, revealing the smooth expanse of her collarbone, then the gentle curve of her shoulders. Her skin was like silk, unmarred and glowing, contrasting starkly against the dark fabric of her uniform.
She paused again, her eyes lifting just enough to catch Cassius's gaze, a silent acknowledgement of the power he held over her—a power she was willingly, thrillingly, submitting to.
