But before she could act, Mark kissed her.

Dusk soon took over the sky.

The setting sun streamed in through the glass, casting a kaleidoscope of colors onto their bodies as if they were adorned with a delicate layer of iridescent glaze.

Cecilia's clothes were disheveled, and Mark had her pinned on the couch, ardently pursuing intimacy.

She resisted and whispered tearfully, expressing concern about someone walking in on them.

Mark reassured her, "No one will come. The household staff is quite elderly. They typically tend to their chores in the morning and won't disturb us at this hour."

Cecilia teasingly labeled Mark a beast.

They had been intimate just the night before, and he was eager for another round.

Mark grinned at her.

He playfully nudged his nose against hers, gently rubbing it.

Though it wasn't quite a sensitive spot, his touch inexplicably made her blush. To ward off his mischievous advances, she nestled against his shoulder and implored, "Stop it."

Mark proceeded to draw open all the curtains.

In the waning sunlight, she appeared astonishingly beautiful.

Mark had shared many passionate moments with her, but he rarely resorted to such flirtatious tactics. More often, he savored the simple caress of her youthful, tender form, for that alone was enough to kindle his desire.

However, she had blossomed into a mature woman.

Some aspects of their intimacy had gained a newfound allure. Although she initially resisted, she eventually acquiesced, willingly engaging when she caught his subtle cues.

She responded with a subdued consent.

Mark whispered in her ear, "Your Uncle Mark's stamina may not be as impressive in a few years. Be a good girl for me now, alright?"

He slid inside her, nearly reducing Cecilia to tears.

He was being utterly smug about it. He did it on purpose.