Belle’s POV
He doesn’t step inside right away.
For a long, agonizing heartbeat, Julius stays frozen in the doorway, his chest heaving, and his eyes black with want.
I can see the war on his face: the good son versus the starving man, loyalty to his father versus the c**k straining so hard against his sweatpants it must hurt.
I don’t speak to him, he has to make his choice, so I just keep my fingers moving, I. slick circles around my c**t, then dipping inside to curl against that spot again.
Letting him watch. Letting him see how wet and ready I am.
Then, finally, he moves.
One step, and another. The door creaks wider behind him. He kicks it shut without looking, the soft click of the latch is louder than any shout.
My pulse hammers in my throat as I watch him approaching.
He cross
