Down past his chest. Past his stomach. Until they paused on the bulge beneath his trousers.
Julian's cock throbbed violently under her gaze.
She said nothing at first, but the silence was louder than any words. "That," she murmured, voice soft and reverent, "is not the body of a boy."
She leaned closer, her breath kissing his neck, warm and trembling. "Not anymore."
Her hands slid from his, her fingers trailing down his young muscles until they rested just at his waist.
"It's grown," she whispered, almost in awe.
Then lower—her fingers brushed the sensitive skin just above the base of his cock, making it twitch in response.
Her voice came lower now, almost a chant, a prayer laced with sin.
"Fate carved this into you, Rael… this girth, this hunger. This unbearable ache. You're not a man. You're a prophecy wrapped in flesh."
Julian smirked, his voice thick with both arrogance and arousal. "And you think that this body—this cock—can break a god's curse… just by fucking?"
