“Don’t worry. I’ll manage. If the bed proves too small, I’ll purchase a larger one tomorrow. I’m willing to give it a shot tonight,” he assured.

Millie found herself at a loss for words.

Marcus had fully embraced his audacious side, transforming into a mischievous rogue.

“Then it’s the sofa for you.” Millie’s words hung in the air as she retreated into the bedroom, securing the door behind her.

As Millie’s eyelids grew heavy with slumber, a presence found its place beside her on the bed, proving that Marcus’ earlier words held true—no door could thwart his intentions.

Unbeknownst to Millie, she drifted into sleep while sharing the bed with him.

the aroma of the red wine on Millie clung to Marcus, a subtle reminder of the

with her waist, Marcus’ hand embarked on a joumey upwards, drawn by an impulse he couldn’t contain, his fingers

the modest barrier of fabric between them, her soft skin was palpable beneath his touch.

this touch was not unpleasant; rather, it held a captivating allure, akin to an addiction. Succumbing to the impulse, he repeated the gentle contact, surrendering to a sensation that

intentionally flaunted their décolletage, aiming to entice him with their exposed allure. However, these gestures only invoked a sense of distaste within

Millie’s presence? Every touch ignited a feverish surge within him, his blood racing to a boiling point, a sensation nearing eruption. He longed to seize her with a heightened fervor, to grasp her tenderly yet firmly. Yielding to his impulse, he pinched the softness

Millie experienced a jolt of pain and

side. An unbidden expletive escaped her lips, directed

ventured into precarious territory. Hadn’t he exercised caution in his actions? Yet, why did her slumber break, revealing

his unease with a facade of composure, Marcus remarked,

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