Chapter One-Thirty-Six: Because...

Marko

"I don't..."

Alba began, her breath warm against his frame.

Her pulse raced wildly; he could feel it through the hand pressed between her breasts.

A few more centimetres, either to the left or right, and he could reach the delicious stiff buds that were no doubt sensitised enough to have her moaning into his frame.

Just a few more centimetres, and he could see it once more, her face desperate, brows lifted in wanton desire, and her mouth parted wide to let her soft moans escape.

"Don't what?"

He asked, burying his nose in her hair.

Her scent had indeed changed to a softer, more soothing-

"I do not want to play this love game with you, Marko. I don’t want to play with you anymore. I am tired of us."

Her cold hand reached for his that had begun sliding toward the mound on the left to halt her words.

Everything about where and how they stood was improper, but she was his.

Her lusciousness was his to squeeze.

Her softness his to desire.

Everything about her was his.