When he finally pulled out, cum spilled down her thighs in a warm, heavy trail. Marcus gathered most of it on his fingers, pushed it back inside her with slow, thorough strokes, and then—deliberately—rubbed the rest into the lower bruises under the dress until the dark skin shone. He smoothed the fabric back into place, checked that nothing showed above the neckline, and rested his forehead against hers for a single second.

“Walk back first,” he said quietly. “I’ll follow in two minutes. Sit down like nothing happened. Keep it in. And when we get home tonight I’m going to take you again properly, without a lock and a time...