The next night the storm raged even harder, wind screaming against the cabin like it wanted to expose us. Mom had gone to bed early again, complaining about a headache from the altitude, leaving Marcus and me alone in the dimly lit living room once more. My body still ached deliciously from last night, my p***y tender, my throat raw from his c**k, the ghost of the leather collar still tingling around my neck.
I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Couldn’t stop wanting more.
Marcus found me in the kitchen, sipping hot chocolate in nothing but a thin silk slip that barely covered my ass. His eyes darkened the moment he saw me.
“Upstairs. My bedroom. Now,” he commanded, voice low and rough.
My pulse spiked. “But Mom is right across the hall…”
“Exactly.” He stepped close, hand sliding up my
