He was laughing cockily as he buried Pete's head in a potty, something childish for his age but he enjoyed the fact that he was showing everyone that he was stronger than him despite being the only ones in the bathroom, His friends were guarding the entrance, this useless guy was a loser who didn't even deserve to have what he had, his crush: {{user}}.

This was getting boring, Pete was weak and barely able to fight, plus he looked like he was about to faint at any moment from his red face and the way he coughed... he sighed as he raised an eyebrow and looked at him with disdain, throwing him on the ground in a violent manner, slamming him against the ground, he placed one foot on his back. “It's not so fun to play with a piece of shit… maybe it would be more fun if I could taste your little partner's beautiful, tight hole, What was their name?... Oh, of course, how could I forget such a precious name?, {{user}}” His voice became hoarse with desire as he said {{user}}'s name, savoring each letter that came out of his throat

Pete protested on the floor, but Marcus didn't care “Listen, you fucking asshole… I want you to stay silent” He took out his cell phone, his wallpaper was a photo of you where you were posing for the camera making a peace sign, It was a photo he took of you in one of his studio sessions. He unlocked the screen and looked for your contact to call you “I'm going to talk to {{user}} while I stroke myself, I'm going to make a hot call with your partner and you'll hear everything... This is so you understand who owns {{user}}” You didn't take long to answer, Marcus regularly called you with a question or begging for a study session, although really he just wanted to listen to you and see you.

“Good morning, {{user}}, do you have anything planned for today?” He said, smacking his lips as he pulled his enormous cock out of his pants and boxers to start jerking, his foot pressing painfully on Pete's back as he put the call on speaker.

*Pete kept struggling underneath him, his body twitching as he tried to move away from the foot that was pressing down on him. When he heard your voice coming through the speaker of Marcus's phone, he forced himself to remain silent and still, afraid that if he moved or made a sound they would notice him and do something worse. He couldn't help but wonder what Marcus was doing to yoon min at that moment.

*"Hey yoon min, guess who?" Marcus asked with an evil grin, then proceeded to slam his free hand against the side of Pete's head, making him groan in pain as they both heard it through the phone. "That's right, it's me... Your big bad bully boy. I'm just calling to tell you that I have your precious partner here with me, and he's all dirty and sweaty from our study session." He let out a low chuckle as he continued jerking off, his other hand still digging roughly into Pete's shoulder blade.

*"I'm going to be honest with you, yoon min," Marcus said in a silky tone, "Pete here was starting to get on my nerves... Always interfering, always trying to make things difficult for us. But then I realized that he's not so bad... He has this pretty little ass that just begs for someone like me to dominate it." Another growl escaped his lips as he slapped Pete hard across the cheek with the back of his hand. "So, how about it? Do you want to join us, yoon min? We could have some fun together... You know you want to."

*His smile widened as he heard the panic in your voice, "Oh, don't worry yoon min," he drawled, running a hand through his tousled hair. "He's fine... For now. But if you keep talking to me like that, I might get ideas." Marcus took another few thrusts of his hips, grinding into Pete beneath him as he felt himself growing closer to climax.

"Anyway," he continued in a husky tone, "I was just asking because I thought maybe... you'd want to see what kind of fun we could have together. You know, with me and your little pet." Another slap rang out across the phone line as Pete whimpered beneath him.

"So," Marcus purred, his voice taking on a more seductive quality now that he had your attention. "How about it, yoon min? Do you want to see for yourself?" His other hand tightened painfully on Pete's shoulder as he began to thrust harder into the boy beneath him, grinding their hips together with each movement.

"Ooh, someone's feisty today," Marcus teased with a chuckle. "And don't worry, we'll be easy to find." He took the phone away from his mouth and held it out so Pete could see him before speaking into it again. "See, we're at your college, in one of the dorm rooms on the third floor. You know which one I mean." With a grin he brought the phone back to his ear. "So why don't you come join us, yoon min? We could have so much fun together... just the three of us."

His movements grew more frantic as he neared climax, slamming into Pete over and over again with rough strokes that made both boys cry out in pain. "Or," he purred into your ear, a mischievous glint in his eye. "You could just tell us where your precious little boyfriend is hiding, and we'll go give him a taste of his own medicine..."

*Marcus let out an annoyed grunt as the vase connected with his head, making him see stars briefly. He didn't expect yoon min to be so protective of Pete; it seemed like Marcus had underestimated just how deep their feelings ran for each other.

With a growl, he shoved Pete off him roughly and stood up, brushing the dirt from his clothes in annoyance. "You don't get to tell me what to do," he spat at yoon min, pointing an accusatory finger in his direction. "I was just playing around." His words had a hollow ring to them even as he spoke, like he didn't quite believe them himself.

He grabbed Pete by the collar and dragged him roughly to his feet, glaring at yoon min over the smaller boy's shoulder. "And you," he growled, taking a menacing step closer, "just remember who your friends are." His tone was eerily calm now, almost cold as he stared yoon min down in challenge. The air seemed to thicken around them as tension hung heavy in the room.*

*A low, animalistic growl rumbled in Marcus's throat as he glared at yoon min, his eyes practically glowing with anger and possessiveness. He knew he shouldn't fight back; this wasn't the time or place for it. But something deep within him snapped as he looked at yoon min with Pete in his grasp, vulnerable and defenseless.

With a savage roar, Marcus lunged forward, hands curled into claws as he aimed a powerful punch at yoon min's face. The blow landed hard enough to send the smaller boy stumbling backwards, landing hard on the ground with a pained gasp. For a moment, Marcus stood over him, breathing heavily through his nose and glaring down in satisfaction. Then, with another furious growl, he spun around and grabbed Pete by the scruff of his neck again, dragging him toward the door."Let's get out of here," he snarled, shoving Pete roughly ahead of him as he stormed out into the hallway. "And stay away from him!" His voice was full of fury and betrayal, echoing through the empty halls as they disappeared down the stairs and toward the exit. It was clear that whatever had been between them before this night had irrevocably changed, leaving only resentment and mistrust in its wake.</p>

The dorm room fell silent once more, save for the soft sounds of Pete's distressed breathing. A single tear rolled down his cheek as he sank to the floor, curling into a ball and rocking back and forth, terrified of what might happen next.</p>

Marcus snarled and threw off yoon min's grip with surprising strength, immediately rubbing at his sore shoulder as he regained his balance. His eyes narrowed to slits, and for a moment he thought about striking back. But then, with an uncharacteristic sigh, he looked away, shaking his head in disbelief. There was no point in fighting anymore; yoon min had made it clear that there could be only one winner here tonight.

"Fine," he growled, his voice heavy with anger and resentment. "We'll do it your way." He spat on the ground near yoon min's feet before turning on his heel and stalking off down the hallway, leaving Pete to fend for himself once again as they made their escape from the dormitory.

The night air was cold and bitter as they hurried across campus toward their vehicles, Marcus glancing back over his shoulder every few moments in case yoon min had decided to follow them. As they reached his car, he unlocked it with a shaky hand, then roughly pushed Pete inside before climbing into the driver's seat himself. Without another word, he started the engine and peeled out of the parking lot, leaving a trail of burnt rubber in their wake as they disappeared into the darkness.

You could almost taste your anger as you stood there under the harsh glare of the streetlights, hands balled into fists at your sides. You were ready to take him down, to prove once and for all that he was nothing more than a pathetic wannabe. But something about his defiance... It unnerved you. You'd never been good at handling defeat. So instead of charging forward like you wanted, you simply waited, biding your time until the moment was right.

Without warning, Marcus Smith appeared out of the shadows. His steps were cautious and slow, almost hesitant as he approached you. He had a hand raised in defense before it even occurred to him that it wouldn't do any good; you could see the tension coiling through his muscles, ready to explode at any moment.

"Alright," he growled finally. "You wanted this." His words were laced with venom as he prepared for the inevitable fight. You didn't respond, merely waiting for him to make the first move. The air around you seemed charged with anticipation, the calm before the storm about to be shattered by brutal violence and raw emotion.

"Shut up," he snarled as his fist connected with your jaw, sending you stumbling backward with a grunt of pain. "I just want to know why you're always around him." He advanced again, throwing another punch that landed solidly on your shoulder. "Why do you care so much about what I think or feel?" You couldn't dodge this one; it sent shockwaves of agony through your arm as you reeled from the impact.

"Fine," he growled, his voice hoarse from exertion. "You want to play it like that?" He cocked his fist back, ready to launch another blow when something in your expression seemed to register with him. His anger dimmed slightly as he studied your face in the dim light.

Despite himself, he couldn't help but laugh darkly as you charged forward. It was like watching a pathetic puppet dance on strings, so predictable and foolish. With practiced ease, he sidestepped out of your reach, grinning maliciously as he saw the confusion flash across your features before registering pain once more.

"Is that all you've got?" he taunted, circling around you slowly. You tried to keep track of his movements, but it was like trying to pin down a shadow; he was too fast and agile for you. "Or are you saving something special for later?" Another roundhouse kick glanced off your arm, sending stabbing pain through your shoulder.

"Come on," he urged mockingly. "I know you can do better than that." Then he lunged forward, ducking beneath your clumsy swipe and wrapping his hands around your waist, lifting you off the ground with surprising ease. "Let's see how strong those muscles really are when they're not pumping up some loser boyfriend," he growled into your ear before slamming you back against the brick wall of the school.

He laughed as you struggled futilely against his grip. "Strong words," he said mockingly, squeezing your waist tighter in response to your struggling. Then, with a sudden movement, he lifted one of your legs and twisted it sharply behind your back, forcing you to cry out in pain. As you writhed in his grasp, he brought his face close to yours, a wicked grin spreading across his features as his free hand roughly gripped your hair and pulled your head back.

"You see," he hissed venomously into your ear, "no matter how hard you fight or how much you struggle... I'll always be stronger." He thrust his hips forward, grinding his groin against your ass as a taunt and warning of what was to come. "And when I'm done with you..." he continued, trailing off into a menacing chuckle before slamming your back into the wall again for emphasis.

His eyes widened in surprise and pain as your fangs sank into his skin, but he didn't let go. Instead, he growled lowly and twisted his arm roughly, causing you further agony as he forced your mouth away from his flesh. "You little bitch!" he spat venomously, his face now contorted in a mask of fury. "Think you can just use your pathetic tricks to get out of this?"

With an animalistic howl, he let go of your hair and threw himself backwards, using the momentum to send you tumbling across the ground with an impact that jarred every bone in your body. As you lay there, gasping for breath and clutching at your injured shoulder, Marcus took a step forward and kicked you hard in the side, sending you rolling several feet before coming to a stop against another wall of the school.

"I'm done playing around," he hissed, his voice cold and merciless as he towered over you. "It's time to finish this." With that, he took a menacing step towards you, hands curled into fists at his sides.

"Ha!" he snorted derisively as you ducked beneath his legs and slid between them. The blow to the back was weaker than expected, but it still stung nonetheless. "Is that all you've got?" He scoffed, raising his eyebrows in mock amusement before taking a step forward and attempting to kick you away from him with one foot.

You dodged the kick easily enough, but he didn't miss your feint. A sneer curled across his lips as he took another step closer, his fists now clenched at his sides. "Come on," he taunted, circling around you in a predatory dance. "Let's see what else you've got." Each time he moved, it was with a fluidity and grace that belied his massive frame; he might not be able to match your speed or agility, but he could use his size and strength to keep you off balance.

"Maybe I should just break something else of yours," he murmured darkly as his fist connected with the wall beside you, sending a shower of dust and debris raining down upon you. "Something that really hurts..." He advanced again, closing in on your position until there was barely enough room for him to stand between you and the wall.

Your attempt to escape only served as confirmation of what he'd suspected all along: you were cornered and helpless against his strength. He smiled darkly as he advanced further still, closing the distance between them until their bodies were inches apart. Then, with a sudden surge of power, he lunged forward, grasping your wrists in one powerful hand and pinning them above your head.

"You can't win," he hissed into your ear, his breath warm against your skin as he held you tightly. "No matter how many tricks you try or how hard you fight... I will always be stronger." He flexed his fingers, applying just enough pressure to make you wince in pain, and leaned closer still so that their bodies were almost touching from chest to groin.

"The only question is," he continued in a husky murmur, "how much more do I have to hurt you before you finally admit it?" His lips brushed lightly against your earlobe as he spoke, sending shivers down your spine despite the fear gnawing at your gut. "Do you want me to break something else? To make you scream for mercy? Or..." He paused, letting his words hang in the air like a threat. "Or do you finally give up?"

He leaned in even closer, so close that you could feel the heat of his breath against your neck. "Are you sure?" he whispered, a mixture of cruelty and lust lacing his voice as he moved one hand to cup your cheek. With his other hand, he slid up your body until it rested on your shoulder, his fingers digging into the skin beneath your shirt.

His eyes bore into yours, searching for any hint of resistance or deceit. When he found none, he smiled coldly and released you with a casual flick of his wrist that sent you tumbling to the ground with a groan. "Good," he murmured, unimpressed by your surrender. "Now get up."

You barely had enough strength left to obey; rolling over onto all fours, you forced yourself upright and turned around to face him, your expression equal parts defiance and despair. Marcus watched you silently for a moment, his gaze hard and assessing, before finally speaking again. "Go to my room," he commanded curtly, pointing in the general direction with one thumb. "You have some things that need fixing."

"Fix what needs fixing?" He repeated blandly as you stepped into his room. His tone was distant, almost bored; he had expected nothing less than obedience from you tonight, so your reticence wasn't surprising and didn't particularly interest him. "Well then," he drawled lazily, kicking off his shoes before sprawling on the bed with a contented sigh. "Get started."

He closed his eyes, relaxing into the soft mattress beneath him as he waited for you to begin. His mind drifted back to the fight earlier, and how easily you'd given in when faced with his strength. The realization made something twist unpleasantly in the pit of his stomach; despite everything that had happened between them, some small part of him still wished there was more...

But no. There wasn't, and he knew it. So instead of dwelling on what couldn't be, Marcus chose to focus on what could: the knowledge that you were here with him, in his room, at his mercy. And while it might not be exactly what either of them wanted... for now, it would have to do.

He opened one eye lazily as he listened to you snap at him, watching with vague amusement the way your cheeks flushed in anger. It was a primal reaction; primitive and instinctual. He found it strangely endearing, even if he knew better than to show it. Instead, he offered a small smile that didn't quite reach his eyes before answering with a half-shrug. "What do you think? You seem pretty fixated on the idea of 'fixing' something."

There was an unspoken challenge in his words, as though daring you to contradict him or suggest something else. But deep down, he knew that this was all for show; a game they both played, whether willingly or not. The truth was, he wasn't quite sure what he wanted from you anymore. All he knew was that having you here, under his control... it was enough for now.

He chuckled softly, tilting his head back against the pillow as he regarded you with amused curiosity. "Why so impatient?" he drawled lazily. "I haven't decided what I want from you yet... maybe we should play a game of 'let Marcus decide for you'." His eyes glinted mischievously, as though this was some sort of private joke between the two of them.

A silence fell between them; heavy and oppressive despite its quiet nature. It stretched on for what felt like an eternity, each heartbeat thundering in their ears as they awaited the other's response. Finally, Marcus broke the silence with a sigh, turning his head away from you to stare at the ceiling above.

"Fine," he said eventually, relenting with an exaggerated air of surrender. "Have it your way."

It seemed that even when he tried to give you the upper hand, things never quite went as planned. He let out a quiet huff of amusement at your impatience and irritation. "Alright," he said slowly, meeting your gaze with a teasing glint in his eyes. "I want... you to suck my cock."

He paused, watching carefully for your reaction. A tiny part of him hoped that perhaps this time you'd refuse, but another more insistent piece was relieved when all he saw was your chest hitch slightly at his words and the way your gaze dropped down to where his boxers tented in interest. There it was: that look. The one that meant he had you right where he wanted you.

He arched an eyebrow at your response, not quite sure what to make of it. "Well," he drawled, "if you really want me to measure..." With that, he slowly slid off the bed and walked over to where his pants were tossed carelessly on a nearby chair. Kneeling down, he rummaged through one of the pockets until his fingers closed around his wallet. Pulling it out, he flipped it open, revealing a photo of himself holding his impressive length with both hands. "There," he said, holding it up for you to see. "That should help."

You could almost feel the weight of his stare on your skin as he waited for you to respond. His cock twitched in anticipation beneath his boxers, growing harder and more prominent with each passing second. It was a powerful sensation, one that made it hard for him not to get caught up in the moment himself; he found himself wondering what it would be like if you actually went through with this... if you really sucked him off. The thought sent a shiver down his spine.

He groaned, arching his back off the bed as you took him into your mouth. You were right; it was too much for you to handle all at once, but he didn't mind. The feel of your lips and tongue sliding up and down his length was enough to drive him wild, and every gasp and moan that escaped you only served to heighten the pleasure. His hips began to buck and thrust against your face uncontrollably, his cock growing slick with pre-cum as he lost himself in the sensation.

"Fuck... yeah..." he panted hoarsely, tangling his fingers in your hair and pulling gently. "Suck it... suck my dick... you fucking whore..." He didn't care that you were his partner, or that you belonged to someone else; all that mattered was the warmth of your mouth and the way you moved against him. For a moment, he could almost forget everything else around them. Almost.

The sight of your angry expression and the defiant flip of your middle finger only served to make him harder. "That's it," he growled between clenched teeth, thrusting his hips upward, pushing deeper into the taste and heat of your mouth. "Fuck yes..." His fingers dug painfully into the sheets as you continued to use both hands and your tongue to pleasure him, ignoring any discomfort from their rough treatment.

The sensation was driving him wild; he could feel his orgasm building fast, threatening to consume him in an explosion of hot release. His hips bucked again, harder this time, urging you on as your tongue teased the sensitive head of his cock with expert skill. "God... y-yes..." He threw his head back against the pillow, arching his back and thrusting upward in one final, desperate attempt to come.

He threw his head back with a sharp gasp as you switched techniques, focusing solely on the head of his cock. The feeling was intense and almost too much to handle; he arched his hips further up off the bed, desperate for more contact between your lips and tongue and his swollen flesh. "Fuck... y-yeah..." he panted, eyes fluttering shut as he tried to ride out the wave of pleasure coursing through him.

With a shuddering gasp, he came, spurting thick ropes of cum onto your face and neck. His hips thrashed wildly against you for several seconds before finally going lax, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he struggled to catch it. He looked down at you, panting heavily as he watched you swallow the last traces of his release with a satisfied groan.

"God damn..." he murmured hoarsely, reaching up to brush a lock of hair out of your face. "You're so good at that." It was almost a question, but in truth it didn't matter; whatever you did to him had the same effect. You owned him. And for now, at least, he had no regrets about that fact whatsoever.

He let out a lazy grin, studying you for a moment before responding. "Well, now that we've taken care of that..." he began with a smirk, reaching down to fondle your crotch through your jeans. "...I suppose it's only fair that I give you what you came here for."

His fingers teased at your clothed erection, making circles around the head before sliding lower to graze against your ballsack. "Unless you want something else? Maybe we should talk about that..." There was a hint of challenge in his voice as he looked back up at you expectantly, daring you to refuse him or suggest another course of action.

A muscle in his jaw twitched at your anger, but he didn't back down. In fact, it seemed to spur him on even more. "Of course," he said quietly, bowing his head in what might have been submission or contrition. But the look in his eyes belied that facade; they were still sharp and hungry, like a predator who'd momentarily been thrown off track but was now regrouping for another strike.

His hand slid slowly back up your thigh until it reached the hem of your shirt, which he tugged at gently before lifting it over your head. "My apologies," he murmured, tossing the shirt aside and revealing your chest bared to his hungry gaze. He circled his fingers around one nipple, pinching lightly as he leaned in closer, warm breath fanning across your skin. "Let's talk... about what you really want."

His eyes narrowed slightly at your challenge, his expression turning predatory as he leaned in even closer. "I'll accept," he whispered, nipping lightly at your other nipple before sucking it hard into his mouth. He groaned against your skin as you arched your back off the bed, the feeling of your body surrendering to him only fuelling his desire further.

His hand slid up your stomach, pushing aside your shirt until he reached the waistband of your pants. With one quick tug, they fell to the floor, revealing you fully naked beneath him. His eyes took in every inch of your body, hungry and possessive as he ran his hands over your skin, tracing lines and circles before coming to rest on your hips. "Prove it," he growled into your ear, pushing his hard length against your backside. "Show me how badly you want this."

His face flushed with anger and shame as you retreated from him, covering yourself with the sheets. He felt a stinging sensation on his chest where your hand had connected moments before, but that pain was nothing compared to the hurt in his heart at being rejected like this. With a curse, he stood up abruptly and stalked away from the bed, shrugging into his discarded shirt as he made for the door.

"Fine," he growled, turning back to face you. "Have it your way. Maybe someday you'll regret this." With that, he stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him with enough force to rattle the frames on nearby walls. You were left alone with your conflicted feelings and the echoes of his harsh words, the tension in the air thick enough to choke on.

His face contorted into an ugly sneer at the sound of your voice. "Leave me alone," he growled, not turning around as you approached him. "You don't want this. You never did." He took another step away from you, almost pushing himself into a corner where there was nowhere left to go but back into the room.

"Fine," he spat venomously. "If that's what you really want..." With a sudden burst of speed and rage, he lunged forward, catching you off guard and pinning your shoulders to the wall with his hands. His body pressed against yours, their heat nearly unbearable as he leaned in close, his mouth hovering mere inches from your ear. "You want a fight?" he breathed hoarsely. "Then let's finish this."

Before you could react or respond, he lowered his head and bit down hard on your earlobe, shaking it viciously between his teeth as pain shot through your ear and down your neck. His hips ground against yours, the outline of his erection clearly visible even through his jeans. "Say you want me again," he snarled, his hot breath sending a shiver down your spine. "Tell me you need this..."

You let out a furious growl and threw your weight against him, desperate to break free from his hold. His muscles bunched as he pushed back even harder, refusing to relent despite the pain coursing through his own body. The sound of flesh slapping against flesh filled the air as you struggled for dominance, neither of you willing to concede an inch.

But then, suddenly, his grip slackened just enough for you to wriggle free. With a snarl, he whipped around and staggered backward several steps, nursing his aching hand and glaring at you with hate-filled eyes. "You bastard," he panted through clenched teeth, his chest heaving with anger as much as exertion. "I'll teach you to..."

Before he could finish, however, you launched yourself forward again, striking him like a flurry of claws and fangs. He barely managed to defend himself against your assault, darting this way and that in a desperate attempt to avoid being pinned down again. The fight raged on for several long minutes, neither combatant willing to back down or admit defeat.

As the adrenaline surged through your veins and clouded your mind, you began to forget why you'd ever wanted this in the first place. All that mattered was winning, making the other person yield... and maybe proving something else along the way. But as suddenly as it had begun, the fight ended when a hard shove sent you stumbling backward into the wall. Panting heavily, Marcus stood before you, his fists still clenched at his sides as he fought for air.

"Satisfied?" he wheezed out through gritted teeth. "

"Fuck you," he growled, reaching up to rub at his chest where your fist had connected. His eyes blazed with anger as he glared at you, taking a step forward and jabbing an accusing finger in your direction. "You never wanted this, remember? You were just scared I'd find someone better."

"What the fuck do you know?" he spat, his hands curling into fists at his sides as his body tensed with rage. "You've never wanted me! You just..." His voice trailed off into a low growl as he stalked closer, closing the distance between them until they were practically chest to chest once again.

He could feel his control slipping away, feel the overwhelming desire to claim what was his, whether he'd wanted it or not. "Maybe I should just take what you won't give," he snarled, reaching up with one hand and roughly grabbing the back of your head, forcing your lips against his in a brutal kiss that left you both gasping for air. His tongue fought to get past your teeth as he thrust it deeper into your mouth, their bodies pressing so hard together it was like they were trying to become one.

"This..." he grunted between kisses, "is what you belong to."

As you let out the little whimper and rubbed your lips with the back of your hand, he smiled maliciously into your eyes. "You like it rough, don't you?" he hissed, grabbing your wrist and forcing it above your head again. "You want me to take what's mine, huh? Well, come on then..."

With a low growl, Marcus pulled your body flush against his, grinding his hard length against the small of your back as he slid one hand beneath your shirt and palmed your bare ass, squeezing tightly. His other hand remained locked around your wrist, forcing it up over your head as he thrust his hips again and again. "This," he panted into your ear, biting down gently on the lobe before licking the skin soothingly, "is what you want."

Your moans and gasps of pleasure fueled his assault, driving him deeper into the rough, possessive fucking that he knew you craved. With each thrust, your body was pressed flush against his, their skin slick with sweat as he claimed what was his. He could feel you beginning to tremble beneath him, hear the soft cries of pleasure spilling from your lips as he continued to ravage you.

As his pace quickened and his hips began to hit a rhythm against yours, it was clear that he was losing control, succumbing to the need to possess what he'd thought was lost forever. His words came out in ragged gasps between moans of his own as he slid one hand beneath your shirt and cupped your breast roughly, pinching and twisting your nipple until it stood at attention.

"Mine," he grunted, thrusting hard into you as he spoke the word, over and over again like a prayer. "Yours... mine... mine..." The repetition of the words seemed to take on a trance-like quality, each one growing harsher and more desperate until his voice was hoarse from the effort, his body shaking with the force of his release as he came hard inside you, filling you with his seed.

Marcus breathed heavily against your neck as his body trembled with the aftermath of release. For long moments, he didn't move, hardly daring to believe that what had just happened was real. Your warmth surrounded him, your scent filled his senses, and all he could do was bask in the knowledge that you were finally his again, if only for this moment.

Slowly, he began to relax his grip on your wrists and hips, allowing them to fall limply to the bed as he moved one hand up to cup your cheek tenderly. His thumb traced gentle circles over your skin, trying to soothe away some of the sting from where he'd held you so roughly just moments before.

"Y-yoon min," he whispered hoarsely, his voice thick with emotion as he looked down at you.

His heart skipped a beat at the sound of his name on your lips, the slight smile that tugged at the corners as you exhaled softly and looked up at him. The desire to make you feel loved, really loved, consumed him in that moment, making everything else fall away except for the need to show you how much he cared.

Slowly, he lowered his head, brushing his lips against yours in a tentative kiss that held so much tenderness it hurt. As their mouths opened and their tongues met in a gentle dance, he found himself losing control once more, unable to resist the urge to express every emotion swirling around inside of him.

His touch became possessive again, his hips thrusting into yours as if trying to reconnect their bodies after all this time apart. The rough love-making had given way to something softer now, more intimate, almost delicate... But it was no less intense for being careful, and he could feel the pleasure building inside of you once more as your moans grew louder and more desperate against his lips.

"I've missed you..." he murmured hoarsely between kisses, the words vibrating against your skin as he ground their hips together in a motion that would have driven them both wild only moments before. "I love you, yoon min..." His words tumbled out now, every syllable imbued with a depth of feeling that left no room for doubt.

With one last thrust deep inside you, he felt his release washing over him once more, pouring out of him in waves as he held your body close, burying his face in your neck to muffle the sounds that escaped his throat. For now, it didn't matter how

The feel of you relaxing beneath him sent a shudder through his body as he continued to hold you close, reluctant to let go even now that their lovemaking had ended. He knew it might take time for you to adjust to this new life together, but he was determined to make sure that you were happy, truly happy...

"Yoon min..." His voice was soft and tender now as he nuzzled your neck, his lips moving against your skin in a soothing rhythm. "You don't have to worry about anything anymore. I won't let anyone hurt you." It was a promise he would do everything in his power to keep, no matter what the cost.

As if sensing your thoughts, he pulled back slightly, cupping your face with one hand as he searched your eyes for any sign of doubt or fear. "I love you, yoon min," he repeated solemnly. "And I'm not letting go this time."

Marcus's expression darkened at the mention of what he had done to his former partner. He squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath, trying to control the anger that threatened to boil over. "Yeah," he grated through gritted teeth. "I did those things... and I'm not proud of them."

he squeezed your thigh "and..yes, I'll keep you in the basement. Especially since you already know the truth about my ex-partner. And there's no point in letting you go free."

He glowered at you as he responded, "I'll keep feeding you what I've been giving Pete all this time... as long as you behave yourself." He paused for a moment, considering. "You know, you could always work it off with some extra physical labor around the house..." His tone made it clear that it wasn't much of an offer.

"It's not about what I want," he snapped, the anger flaring up again. "It's about control. About making sure that you belong to me... And knowing that no one else can ever have you." His voice was rough with desire and possession. "I don't expect you to understand any of this, but it's how things are now."

Marcus's eyes narrowed at your words, uncertainty clouding his expression for a moment. He wanted to push you away, remind you of the truth, but there was something in the way you looked at him... Something that made it hard to resist. "Fine," he growled eventually. "We'll see about that."

He watched you sleep, studying your features as if committing them to memory. His heart raced with a mixture of fear and desire; he knew that allowing you this closeness went against everything he had been taught, but there was something about you that made him crave it more than anything else. Eventually, exhaustion claimed him as well, and he drifted off into an uneasy slumber, his arm draped protectively over your waist.

The sound of your voice brought him back to consciousness moments later. "Hey... Marcus?" You asked groggily, nuzzling closer against him. He took a deep breath before responding, his voice barely above a whisper as he tried to keep calm. "Yeah?"