Why had Marcus rushed through his shower with such haste? A mere moment ago, he had been enclosed within the bathroom’s embrace, and now he emerged, leaving behind its sanctuary. The sudden appearance caught her off guard.

Gazing upon the chiseled contours of Marcus’ visage against the canvas of his robust chest, Millie found herself enveloped in a shroud of shyness. With unblemished sincerity, she voiced her thoughts.

“Nay, only a solitary question did I chance upon.”

Her hand ascended to Lend support against the imposing bastion of Marcus’ chest, encountering the terrain of his robust and dewy sinews.

Her gaze lifted, encountering his intent stare. Millie’s reticence deepened, mingling with a tincture of culpability.

“I but perused the initial query. You should replace it. By my honor falsehoods shall not cross my lips.”

a solemn oath, yet Marcus, swift as a zephyr, quelled the gesture and enfolded

“Fret not.”

he’d bestow upon her the entirety of his possession,

raged within Marcus. How ineffable was the

delicate as the flutter of a butterfly‘s

within the cradle of Marcus’ extended limbs, his embrace

perplex you? Permit me to

as the tendrils of a vine, Marcus directed attention to the luminous screen, his timbre imbued with an indulgence that echoed the dulcet symphony of

brushed against the contours of her

intentions remained veiled-was he a scribe

chasm between this instance and his customary sternness yawned wide, a dichotomy

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