Black Card
Belle continued her slow, deliberate movements, fully aware of Ethan’s gaze fixed on her.
He stood there, breath caught somewhere between disbelief and raw admiration.
“You can’t torture me like this, Belle,” he groaned, frustration thick in his voice as he regained his senses, watching her touch herself with a teasing, unhurried rhythm.
“Ahh…” Belle let out a soft, breathy moan, her fingers stroking lightly over the damp fabric of her lace bikini. The wetness was already visible, glistening under the low light—a sight that held Ethan’s attention completely captive.