His hand is still over my mouth... Like a heavy, burning weight but it’s his eyes that knock the breath out of my lungs. They are stormy, fractured, and swirling with a hungry possessiveness...
His jaw ticks almost like he's teetering on the very edge of his restraint and I can feel the heat radiating off him in waves.
He’s looking at me—really looking at me—but his gaze isn't just on my face. It’s fixed on the oversized white shirt draped over my frame. The crisp cotton, the smell of Marcus’s cologne… it’s a beacon of another man’s presence, and I can see it’s tearing him apart... I'm supposed to be his wife after all...
Slowly, his hand slides down from my mouth, his large fingers grazing my lower lip as he lets out a breath that sounds more like a growl.
I gasp his name the second h
