Time seemed to lose its meaning as they lay entangled, their clothes in disarray beneath the bed.

Tears glistened in Cecilia’s eyes as she felt a hint of sobriety mixed with a daze.

Her slender fingers gently caressed Mark’s handsome features, and she whispered hoarsely, “Mark, no one can bully me.

In her heart, he was the only one, from beginning to end!

She cried like a little girl, her heart torn between wanting him close and feeling wronged.

Mark gently brushed his slender fingers against her glamorous face, trying to comfort her.

“Don’t cry, Cecilia.

in a low voice, his own

feelings, torn between staying with her and the knowledge

moment she called him “Mark,” everything

when she had referred to him as “Uncle

©

the weight of their history together—a history that involved a woman who

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claimed her tenderly, their bodies seeking solace

not of physical pain but of

night, he indulged himself in this tender moment

him ‘Uncle Mark’ later that he couldn’t suppress his lust

surrendered to their dormant love and affection, their passion reignited like gasoline meeting a flame—irresistible

Cecilia woke

before her,

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