The Unspoken Vow

The sheets were a tangled mess, a testament to the storm that had raged between us. My body hummed, a symphony of pleasure and a quiet ache that was both familiar and terrifying. Marco lay beside me, his chest rising and falling with a steady rhythm that somehow calmed the frantic beating of my own heart. His arm was draped over me, a possessive weight that felt less like a burden and more like an anchor.

“You’re quiet,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble against my skin.

I traced the line of his jaw with a fingertip, the stubble a pleasant friction. “Just… thinking.”