(Annabel POV)
In the living room, I kicked off my god-awful heels, almost taking out a lamp with one, and reached down to pull my dress over my head. Dean stopped me, though, his hands on my wrists.
"Let me look, first," he murmured, backing away. "Turn, slowly." He eyed me with a critical expression. "You look very beautiful, baby."
I smiled and waited for instructions. He nodded. "Now you may remove the dress."
I pulled the stretchy material over my head and removed my bra. When I hooked my thumbs in my panties, I looked at him for permission before lowering them. He nodded, and I pulled them slowly off. I stood before him, feet spread, arms at my sides, eyes downcast.
"You have grown in experience," he said, in appreciation. "Your submission has become your strength."
"Huh?" mos
