The soft gray light of another overcast morning filtered through the heavy curtains in Elena’s bedroom, painting the room in muted tones of silver and shadow. Rain pattered gently against the windows now, a softer rhythm than the previous night’s fury, but still constant, still isolating the mansion from the outside world. Elena lay in the tangled sheets, her body heavy with the kind of bone-deep satisfaction that only came after nights spent wrapped in Marcus’s arms—his cum still faintly leaking from her, a warm, secret reminder between her thighs. She stretched slowly, muscles protesting in the best way, a small smile playing on her lips as memories of the...