Claire curled against Julian, her bare leg draped over his thigh, the sheets tangled around their bodies like whispers. The wine still sat half-full on the bedside table, forgotten, the bottle sweating in the summer heat. They’d been watching their him together for weeks now.
It had started as a secret thrill — Claire noticing the man across the courtyard during her solitary rituals, her breath catching at the sight of him undressing with the curtains wide open. But when she told Julian about it — hesitantly, nervously — he didn’t recoil.
Instead, he’d smiled.
“Show me.”
So they watched. At first from the shadows, their bodies pressed together in the doorway, sharing whispered commentary. But soon it turned into more — fingers teasing beneath fabric, lips brushing against skin while their eyes stayed fixed on the window across the courtyard.
Tonight, the man was already there — shirtless, as usual, a towel slung low around his hips. Claire, seated between Julian’s legs, leaned back into his chest, the heat of him grounding her. Julian’s hand slid slowly up her thigh, pausing just under the hem of her silk robe.
“You think he knows?” Julian murmured, his lips brushing the shell of her ear.
Claire let out a soft breath, her eyes locked on the slow, deliberate movement across the way. The man had dropped the towel. Bold. Brazen. Beautiful.
“I think,” she said, voice low and thick with arousal, “he wants us to see.”
Julian’s fingers dipped higher, parting her with the ease of someone who knew her body like a well-read book. Claire gasped, her hips shifting instinctively as he teased her with slow circles, their rhythm synced to the man’s movements across the way — the quiet tension of watching and being watched.
Julian moved behind her, kissing her shoulder, his voice rough with desire. “Do you want him to see you too?”
She hesitated — just for a second. Then, with a mischievous smile, she stood, letting the robe slip from her shoulders and fall to the floor. The window across the way was still open. The man had paused — frozen mid-motion.
Claire stepped to their own window, fully exposed now, her silhouette illuminated by the bedside lamp.
Julian came up behind her, pressing his body to hers. She could feel him — hard, needy, ready. His hands explored her curves while their voyeur mirrored their tension, transfixed in his own golden-lit frame.
She closed her eyes and leaned into Julian’s mouth as it found the back of her neck.
Tonight, they weren’t just watching.
They were also being watched.