Cecilia fell silent.

Time stretched on until he presumed she had withdrawn into sleep.

Then she reached out, extinguishing the light.

She nestled her face into the crook of his shoulder.

Her voice, barely above a whisper, confessed, “Actually, if you wanted to, I wouldn't have rejected you. You didn't need to take that cold shower."

Mark remained silent, his hand gently tracing her waist.

Gradually, warmth spread from his palm...

They both inhaled softly, each wary of betraying their desires. Yet, such things defy restraint, and soon their breaths quickened in unison.

Unable to resist the mounting tension, Mark cradled the back of her head.

As he kissed her, his free hand began to ease her bathrobe from her shoulders.

"Mark."

Her voice, vulnerable and tender, beckoned him as she gazed up.

He answered without words.

Reaching to the bedside table, he retrieved a small box, setting it aside before his lips eagerly found hers once more...

Soft moonlight bathed the room.

Their shadows danced upon the wall.

As their bodies merged, the night air was punctuated by their shared ecstasy.

Sensuality deepened the night's embrace.

By the time their passion subsided, the clock struck 3:00 AM.

Cecilia's head rested on his shoulder, her raven tresses cascading over him.