“No, I need to prove that your scars mean nothing to me."

He held her close, planting a kiss on her cheek.

"What if I mar my own face? We could be a matching pair."

“You are such a nuisance, Camila grumbled, a mix of irritation and amusement on her face.

Isaac's hold on her tightened as he reassured her, "I really don't dislike you."

"Alright, I trust you," she surrendered.

"I'll make it obvious." His lips curled into a mischievous smirk.

His hand made its way inside her blouse.

Camila blushed, flustered and shy.

"I believe you. Please stop... It's ticklish..."

"Where's it ticklish? Allow me to alleviate it."

They tumbled onto the bed together.

Camila's clothes were askew, and her hair was a mess.

Isaac kissed her passionately, guiding her hand to his chest.

“Can you feel my heart beating for you?"

Camila squirmed, her cheeks warm.

His unexpected tender words sent her into a blushing fit.

Before he could undress her, she pressed her hands against his muscular chest and inquired once more, “Did you have dinner yet?"

Isaac undid his tie and responded, "No, not yet."

"I'll cook for you. What do you want to eat?"