But his curious observation of my bedchamber comes to an abrupt stop as he looks straight ahead, and I watch him through the mirror as his eyes trail down the length of my back, over my ass, and straight down to my heels.
My skin prickles with awareness, and my cock twitches where it hangs between my thighs.
His eyes dart to his own feet, his face flushing a bright red.
“Young Master Atlas,” he stammers out. “Y-you called?”
“Yes,” I answer breathlessly. “I need help.”
I watch his brows furrow, but still, he refuses to look up from his shoes.
“Help? What do you need?”
“Ready me for bed,” I command, and Julian stiffens.
“Um, yes, sir.” He closes the door softly behind himself.
“The closet is to my right. I need night clothes.”
Julian nods, his eyes darting up to the door that leads to my closet, and he heads in that direction. When he passes me, he gives me a wide berth.
Once he disappears inside, I return my attention to my own reflection. Excitement has flushed my skin, and I can see the desire and need in my own eyes.
Such a horrible, sweet little thing,I think to myself.
“Young Master Atlas? Is this what you… wear to bed?” Julian exits the closet, his eyes trained on the fabric.
A pair of navy blue silk sleep shorts and a matching button-up sleep shirt sit in his palms.
“Yes, that’s correct,” I say gently.
Without another word, Julian approaches me, extending the clothes once he’s an arm’s length away. I can practically hear his heartbeat from here; his jaw clenches as a thick vein throbs in his neck.
“What are you doing?” I ask. “Dress me, please.”
He releases a heavy, stuttering sigh as he nods once. Then, he’s taking another step toward me and kneeling.
I use every ounce of self-control I contain to stay soft with his face level with my groin, repressing the whine that threatens to leave me.
He holds the shorts out, ready for me to step into them as the shirt stays balanced in his lap. I slide one foot through the opening, placing a hand on his shoulder when I move to insert the other.
Julian flinches underneath my hold, most likely feeling the burning sensation that accompanies my touch, but he does not look up from my feet.
After I’ve stepped in, he drags the fabric up my calves, then my thighs, my skin zapping under the feel of the caress with each passing second.
He is careful not to touch my skin with his own, using the elastic of the shorts to his advantage as he settles them onto my hips without ever looking up and at me naked before him.
Then, Julian stands, and he allows me to slide my arms into the unbuttoned shirt.
“Julian,” I say once the shirt sits firmly on my shoulders. “You’ll need to actually look at me for this next part.”
Brown eyes hide behind clenched eyelids for a moment, him seemingly preparing himself, before he hesitantly looks up at my bare chest.
His fingers shake as he begins to button the shirt, starting from the top.
As the sun sets beyond my window, he speaks.
“It’s almost nighttime.”
