Marcus's lips moved slowly over mine, like he was savouring the feel, the taste, the moment. And I let myself melt into it, into him, my fingers curling lightly into the fabric of his sweatpants, needing something to anchor me.
There was nothing rushed about the kiss. It was a possession. Like he was claiming not just my mouth, but my thoughts, my breath, my peace. Me.
He pulled back just slightly, just enough to rest his forehead against mine. Our breaths mingled in the space between us, warm and trembling.
"Tell me to stop, tell me what you want," Marcus whispered. "Tell me now."
But I didn't want him to stop. I couldn’t.
"I want you..." I managed to get out, and that was all he needed.
He kissed me again, and this time his hands slid down my back, moulding my body against his, un
