She gasps, her thighs clenching, her entire body jolting from the sudden sensation.

Her reaction is fucking perfect.

She bites her lip, eyes darting from the screen to the toy, her grip tightening just slightly as it buzzes against her skin.

"You touch yourself when you're alone," I continue, voice smooth, controlled. "Why is this any different?"

She presses the toy against her skin, grazing it over her thighs, up the softness of her stomach, teasing herself with it, dragging it over the fabric of her pajama shorts.

She lets out a tiny whimper.

Fucking hell.

I click the power higher, and she shudders, arching just slightly against the bed, her lips parting as a breathy sound escapes her throat. Her reaction is instant, her body responding to my control, to me. The ache in my cock for her is nearly unbearable.

"Slide your shorts down," I instruct, voice thick.

She hesitates and I turn the toy off.

"Caleb..." she breathes, her lips red and kiss-swollen from how much she's been biting them.

"Do it, pretty girl."

A beat of silence.

Then—slowly, tentatively—she pushes the waistband down, lifting her hips just enough to shimmy out of them, leaving her completely bare.

I groan, watching as she lays back against the pillows, cheeks flushed, thighs still pressed together. Her fingers hover over the toy, hesitation written in the slight tremble of her hand, the way her brows pull together.

I know what she needs. Reassurance. Permission.

"Take your top off too, pretty girl."

Her breath catches.

"Caleb—"

"You don't need to hide from me. I want to see all of you."

She hesitates, hands hovering at the hem of her tank top. And then, slowly, carefully, she peels it off, revealing all of her. My cock jerks painfully in my sweatpants, my entire body locking tight as I drink her in.

Fucking hell. Every inch of her is stunning.

Full, soft curves. Tight, peaked nipples. Skin flushed from arousal, glistening in the soft light.

She's perfect. And she doesn't even see it.

She shifts slightly, her thighs pressing together like she's trying to shield herself from my attention. Like she still doesn't know how fucking divine she looks laid out before me.

"You're perfect," I murmur, voice thick, heavy with possession. "And you're going to let me show you just how much."

She exhales shakily, shifting, her knees drawing apart slightly.

Fuck, yes.

"Take it," I say, my voice rough, demanding. "Slide it inside you."

Her breath catches. But she listens.

She moves the toy lower, brushing it between her slick folds, teasing herself, dragging it over her clit until she's squirming, needy, desperate.

Her lips part, a soft moan spilling from them, and I tighten my grip on the remote, barely restraining myself.

She spreads herself open, the soft, wet sound making my cock twitch in my sweatpants.

Her breath shakes. Then, finally—she does it.

She guides the toy inside, inch by inch, her head tipping back against the pillow, her lips parting on a moan.

Fuck.

Her body arches, her breath coming in shaky little pants, her thighs trembling as she adjusts to the sensation.

I don't turn it on yet. I make her wait. I let her feel it, let her body adjust, let the anticipation build until I can see it—the desperation.

She bites her lip, shifting slightly, adjusting, growing impatient.

"Caleb," she whimpers.

"Good girl."

I take a steadying breath, adjusting the remote in my hand, my finger hovering over the power button.

"Relax for me, pretty girl," I murmur. "This is about you."

She exhales a breathy little giggle, shifting against the pillows.

"I don't know how I'm supposed to relax when you're talking to me like this."

"Like what?"

"Like I'm..." Her voice trails off, eyes shifting away, avoiding mine.

"Like you're what?" I press gently.

"Like I'm..." She swallows, then finally meets my gaze again, her cheeks flaming. "Like I'm something to be worshipped."

My fingers tighten around the remote.

"You are," I say simply.

She lets out a breath.

"Touch yourself."

She hesitates. "I'm nervous."

"Why?" I turn the toy on.

She gasps. Her thighs clench.

She's so damn sensitive right now. Perfect.

"Why are you nervous, pretty girl?" My voice would be low even without the modulator at this point.

Her fingers twitch at her sides, and she huffs a little breath. "Because you're watching."

I drag my fingers over my thigh, my own arousal unbearable now. "Exactly," I say. "And I'm going to keep watching until you start doing as you're told."

She exhales shakily, her fingers finally moving. Trailing lightly over her stomach, over her hips, down the curves of her thighs.

She bites her lip, still unsure.

I shut the toy off. She whimpers.

"Tell me what you like about your body."

She blinks. "What?"

"You heard me, pretty girl." I sit back, one arm draped over my thigh, the other lazily holding the remote. "Tell me something you love about your body."

She groans. "Ugh, you sound like a therapist."

I chuckle. If only she knew.

"Humor me," I say smoothly. "Tell me something you like."

She exhales, thinking. "I guess...I like my lips."

"Good." I turn the toy back on—easy, teasing.

She sucks in a breath, her thighs twitching.

"Keep going," I instruct.

She whimpers. "I like my..." Her voice wavers. "I like my eyes, I guess."

"You guess?"

She huffs, squirming. "I like my eyes."

I smile. "There you go. Now keep touching yourself."

Her hands move lower. I increase the vibrations. Her breath catches.

She's so fucking beautiful like this. Writhing, gasping, completely vulnerable—but not in the way that scares her. Not like before. This is different. This is control.

I turn the vibrations higher. She arches.

"Caleb—"

"Tell me what else you love about yourself, pretty girl."

Her chest rises and falls in quick, uneven breaths.

"My..." She swallows. "My...my thighs?"

"Do you?"

She hesitates. "Sometimes?"

I click the toy off.

She groans. "You are so mean."

I chuckle. "I'll turn it back on when you say it like you mean it."

She pouts and I feel it.

The way my cock throbs at the sight of her, so desperate, so perfectly fucking wrecked already.

I wait. She breathes in, breathes out, then finally⁠—

"I love my thighs."

I crank the toy up to high.

She cries out, back arching, fingers gripping the sheets.

"That's my good girl," I murmur.

I could watch this all night. She writhes. Moaning, gasping, completely lost in the sensations rolling through her body.

And I watch. I fucking watch.

Her body responds beautifully—thighs trembling, stomach tightening, fingers twitching against the sheets. She moves like she's desperate for more, craving further contact, needing me.

I adjust my grip on the remote, my other hand pressing into my thigh, trying to keep myself still. Trying not to let the ache in my cock completely take over my brain.

She's so beautiful like this. And she still doesn't see it.

I push her further. I turn the vibrations higher.