"Mmph..."
Nia Mitchell's eyes widened. A sharp pain shot through her lips, and a faint, coppery-sweet taste spread between them. Her struggles were futile. Eventually, she closed her eyes and silently endured it.
His kiss was forceful and overpowering, a predatory conquest tinged with that same coppery sweetness.
A long while later, he finally released her swollen lips.
Nia Mitchell's eyes, glistening with a watery mist, watched him dazedly.
His prominent Adam's apple bobbed, and his magnetic voice resonated throughout the Living Room.
"I'm going to count to three. If you haven't left by the time I reach three... then you'll never escape me for the rest of your life."
"One!"
"Two!"
"Nia Mitchell! You have no more chances to regret this! You're mine!"
"Mmph..."
Maxwell Peary kissed her tender lips once more, giving her no chance to flee. That "three"... he found he didn't have the courage to say it.
