Voyeur**

"What's a saintess doing in a man's room this late?" His voice was low, teasing, as his hand wandered higher.

Eveline sucked in a shaky breath, biting her lip when his fingers brushed higher, skimming her bare skin with deliberate slowness.

"It's… it's about my godmother," Eveline whispered, her voice trembling slightly. "She's come to the city and is staying at the church."

Arthur listened, but his attention was elsewhere—on the way her body reacted to his touch, the faint quiver in her breath as she tried to explain.

His hand slid higher, slipping under her nightgown, fingers gliding over the smooth curve of her stomach before moving up to cup her breast.

"Ahh—" Eveline gasped, her back arching as his thumb teased her nipple through the thin fabric.

Arthur leaned in, lips brushing against her ear. "Godmother?" He murmured, his voice laced with amusement as his fingers kneaded her soft flesh. "And what exactly do you want me to do about it?"