Two days. That’s how long it had been since I saw him, since his silence that was even louder than a f*****g church choir filled the room heavier than any moan I had ever released.
Two days since he held me down and carved his mark into me with nothing more than his stare and the way he whispered those damned words "you’re mine".
Two f*****g days, and I still felt him. Every-f*****g-where.
I should’ve shaken it off. In a job like mine, clients blur together—faces, touches, tastes. That’s the deal.
You give them what they want, you collect your money, and you don’t let them follow you home in your head. That’s the rule I live by.
But him? He crawled in, moved in and f*****g stayed. I could not shake off the feeling in me when he spoke.
I still wasn't sure if it was fear, pure appre
