Elena was still lying on her back in the middle of the master bed when Marcus returned from the bathroom with a warm washcloth. He didn’t use it to clean her. He set it aside on the nightstand and stood at the edge of the mattress looking down at her—legs still open, the fresh dark hickey standing out vividly on the upper curve of her left breast, his cum already beginning to leak from her in a slow, thick trail.

“Don’t move,” he said.

She stayed exactly as she was. Marcus climbed back onto the bed and settled between her thighs. He watched the slow drip for a moment, then...