Mark couldn’t sleep. He sat in Clarisse’s dark living room, staring at the wall. Every ti he closed his eyes, he saw Lyvana. To him, the night they had shared was perfect — the proof he needed that they belonged together.
He felt a surge of love for her, deeper than anything he’d ever known. But beneath the love was a sharp, biting anger. He knew another man was trying to move in on her while he wasn’t looking. He felt like he’d been careless, and now he was losing the only thing that mattered.
"She’s mine," he whispered to the empty room. "She just needs to rember that."
"Who are you talking to?" Clarisse’s voice drifted from the hallway. She stepped into the living room, completely naked, her skin was pale in the dim light. She leaned against the doorfra with a lazy smirk. "Want a quickie?"
"No," Mark said flatly, not even turning his head to look at her.
Clarisse’s smile faded into a look of annoyance. She walked toward him, her footsteps soft on the carpet. She reached out, her cool fingers trailing over his shoulder and down his chest, trying to catch his eye.
"You know what, love," she said. "I think I’m wasting my ti with you. You’re physically here, but your head is always sowhere else. Are you seeing soone else?"
Mark finally looked at her. "Don’t talk nonsense, Clarisse."
"Is it nonsense?" She let her hand slide lower, her touch provocative and mocking. "You’ve never rejected before. Are you loosing your manhood?"
He glared at her, then stood up abruptly, his movent so sudden it made her jump. He grabbed her by the waist and hauled her over the back of the sofa, pinning her chest-down against the cushions.
Before she could even protest, he plunged into her from behind.
A gasp tore from Clarisse’s throat, her hips bucking instinctively. The sudden, deep penetration sent a jolt through her, her body clenching tight around him.
Before long, her body tightened and her legs trembled, her muscles pulsing against him as she groaned in pleasure. Then his body shuddered as he released deep inside her.
He stood up imdiately and adjusted his clothes. He didn’t look back at her as she struggled to catch her breath against the sofa. Without a word, she stood up and disappeared into the bedroom.
Mark checked the clock: 10:30 PM. He couldn’t wait until morning. He needed to see Lyvana now. He needed to look into her eyes and make her forget every other man. He grabbed his keys and went out.
The streets were quiet as he drove out. When he reached her apartnt building, he didn’t bother knocking. He used the spare key she had given him and stepped inside.
The apartnt was silent, but he heard the sound of running water in Lyvana’s room so he walked straight into the bathroom. For a mont, he just stood there, watching her silhouette through the steam and the glass. Then, he reached out and pulled the shower door open.
Lyvana jumped.
The water sprayed into her face as she let out a cry of shock. She wiped her eyes, her breath hitching when she saw him standing there.
"Mark? What the hell?" She scrambled to cover herself with a towel. "What are you doing here? How did you get in?"
Mark didn’t answer right away. He just leaned against the doorfra with a faint, calm smile, his hand tucked in his pocket. His eyes moved over her wet, body slowly.
Then he stepped into the room, his expression softening, though the intensity in his eyes never wavered.
"I’m sorry," he said. "I didn’t an to scare you. I just couldn’t stay away."
He reached out, his fingers grazing the edge of the towel she was clutching.
Lyvana pulled back, her back hitting the cold tile of the shower wall. The towel was damp and heavy in her hands, and the steam from the water made the air between them feel thick and suffocating.
"Mark, leave. Now," she chocked out. "You can’t just walk into my house uninvited."
Mark didn’t move. He didn’t even flinch at her demand. Instead, his fingers hooked more firmly into the edge of her towel.
"I told you," he murmured, stepping further into the small, humid space of the bathroom. "I couldn’t sleep. Every ti I closed my eyes, I thought about us. I want to make love to you all night, Lyvana. I am addicted to you now, Lyvana."
"I don’t know anything right now except that you’re acting crazy!" Lyvana’s heart hamred against her ribs. "It’s nearly eleven o’clock. Get out so I can get dry."
Mark’s gaze dropped to where the water was still dripping from her hair onto her shoulders. He reached out with his other hand, his thumb catching a stray droplet on her collarbone. His touch was searing against her skin, which was already flushed from the heat of the water.
"You’re shivering," he noted.
He stepped into the shower stall with her, his leather shoes clicking on the wet floor, his clothes beginning to soak through as the water hit his back. He didn’t care about the clothes. He didn’t care about the ti. He only cared about the way she was looking so fucking sexy like nothing he had ever seen.
"Mark, you’re getting wet — we need to get out," she whispered, but her protest seem to be on deaf ears. The narrow space of the shower forced them chest-to-chest.
"I’m not going anywhere," he said, his hand moving from the towel to the back of her neck, his fingers tangling in her wet hair to tilt her head back. "Not until you tell you want as much as I want you right now. Not until I make you scream my na."
He leaned in, his lips hovering just inches from hers, his breath warm against her mouth. "Tell , Lyvana. Tell how much you want too."
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