The knock at Betty’s door was soft, hesitant, and yet it sent her heart pounding. She wasn’t expecting anyone, least of all Marcus. But when she opened the door and saw him standing there, shoulders hunched and hands shoved into his jacket pockets, she wasn’t entirely surprised either.
"I didn’t think you’d want to see me after all this," he said, his voice low.
"Why wouldn’t I?" she stepped aside to let him in.
Marcus hesitated but eventually walked into the room, glancing around like he was trying to figure out what to do with himself. He sat on the edge of her bed.
"I’m not used to anyone sticking around when things get messy," he admitted.
"Then it’s time you get used to it," she said softly, sitting beside him and reaching up to tuck a strand of hair away from his face.
Something in him shifted, his eyes dark and searching. Slowly, he leaned in, his lips brushing hers in a kiss that was tentative at first, almost questioning.
Betty responded without hesitation, her hands moving to his shoulders as she leaned into him. The kiss deepened, slow and deliberate. Marcus’s hand slid into her hair, his fingers threading through it as he tilted her head, his lips firm but gentle against hers.
When he pulled back slightly, his forehead rested against hers, his breath warm against her skin. "Betty," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.
"I’m here," she said softly, her hand resting on his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath her palm.
Marcus kissed her again, harder this time, his hands settling at her waist as he pulled her closer. Betty’s fingers tightened in his shirt, her own breath quickening as the kiss turned heated.
He lifted her gently, laying her back onto the bed with a care that made her chest ache. His body hovered over hers, his weight pressing her into the mattress just enough to make her feel grounded.
"Tell me if you want me to stop," he murmured against her lips, his voice rough with restraint.
"I don’t," she whispered, her hands sliding up to cup his face. "I don’t want you to stop."
His lips trailing from her mouth to the sensitive curve of her jaw, then lower to her neck. Betty shivered as his teeth grazed her skin, a soft gasp escaping her lips when he followed the teasing bite with a soothing kiss.
His hands moved with deliberate care, slipping beneath her shirt to rest on her bare waist. His touch was warm and firm, his fingers brushing over her skin like he was memorizing every inch of her. Betty arched into him, her breath hitching as his lips followed the path of his hands, leaving a trail of heat in their wake.
Betty’s own inhibitions melted away as she let her hands explore the smooth planes of his back, feeling the way his muscles tensed beneath her touch. When his lips found hers again, they were softer, slower, filled with a tenderness that left her breathless.
"Betty," he murmured, his voice like a plea as his forehead pressed to hers.
"I’m here," she whispered again, her hands trailing down his sides.
They undressed each other slowly, reverently, their movements filled with a quiet intensity that made the moment feel sacred. When Marcus finally lowered himself onto her, his weight pressing her deeper into the mattress, she felt completely consumed by him—in the best possible way.
Their bodies moved together in a rhythm that felt natural, like they’d been meant for this all along. His hands held her firmly, yet his touch was gentle, guiding her as they explored the space between passion and vulnerability. Betty’s breath caught as he kissed her again, their connection deepening with every movement.
When the moment finally reached its peak, he whispered her name like it was the only thing grounding him, his lips brushing her skin in between gasps and sighs. She responded in kind, her hands gripping his arms, the rest of the world fading to nothing.