"Marcus…"
"Marcus, are you there?"
"Is that you?"
Willow kept her eyes tightly shut, one delicate hand pressed over her proud, beautiful breasts as she called out softly, trying to sense whether he was really there or if her mind was playing tricks on her.
Silence answered her.
There was no movement, no voice, nothing to suggest anyone else was in the room.
I must have imagined it. He didn't come in.
A faint sense of relief settled over her, loosening the tension in her chest, yet beneath it lingered something unexpected, a quiet, unspoken disappointment that she could not quite explain. After a moment, she slowly opened her eyes.
"Ah!"
"Marcus…"
Her breath caught.
She had not imagined it at all. He was really there.
Standing right beside the tub, less than three feet away, Marcus looked at her openly, without the slightest attempt to hide his gaze, taking in her mature, elegant beauty with a kind of pure, unrestrained fascination.
