**Dominic** I had touched women before. Plenty of them. In rooms like this and rooms nothing like this, in arrangements far less complicated than the one currently standing in front of me in white lace, trying very hard to look like she wasn't terrified. This should have been simple. "Undress slowly," I said. My voice came out the same way it always did. Low. Even. No room in it for anything she could push back against. I didn't move. I watched. This was how I operated, at a distance, with full visibility, in complete control of whatever room I stood in. That had never once been a problem. She reached for the buttons on her blouse. Her fingers shook. Good. She was listening. One button at a time, slow like I'd asked. The fabric parted. Smooth skin, the edge of lace. I kept my face still and my body exactly where it was and let the silence do the work. Heat built low in my gut. I noted it the way I noted everything, catalogued it, set it aside. She pushed the blouse off her s
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