Melissa looked incredibly beautiful behind the wheel.
The black dress clung to every curve, so thin and tight that the faint outline of her stiff, still-swollen nipples pressed visibly against the fabric—remnants of the way Phei had sucked and bitten them raw just before they left. Her hair was swept back in a sleek ponytail, exposing the elegant column of her throat and the faint purple hickey blooming just beneath her jawline—his mark, his claim, his woman.
"I'm surprised you agreed to this," she said, eyes fixed on the winding road lined with ancient oaks.
Phei shrugged, leaning back in the passenger seat while hanging up his phone. "Why?"
"Coming here. Meeting her parents?" A small, knowing smile curved her lips. "It's very… traditional. Almost like you're asking for their approval."
He laughed low. "We both know I'm not."
"Do we?"
