Falling In Love with Mr. Motherf**ker

The hangover

Mark's POV

When Clara arrived, I couldn't resist pulling her into a hug. She pressed close, her warmth and the delicate scent of roses enveloping me. For a moment, it was just us, and the outside world seemed to vanish. But as soon as she leaned in, she pulled away, her cheeks flushing a soft pink. She looked adorable, her eyes darting to the floor. I gently lifted her chin with my fingers, making her meet my gaze. "Good evening, Ms. Angels," I whispered.

She shook her head, trying to escape my touch. "Stop that. Unfair!" she said, handing me the sushi box. "Well, are we going to stand here in the corridor, or will you invite me in?" Her sass was both infuriating and endearing. It's amazing how easily she makes me drop my guard and just be myself. I only hope I can make her feel the same way.

Clara's POV

Entering Mark's apartment, I felt a profound sense of ease. With him, I could drop all pretense and just be me. Mark gestured toward the couch. "Why don't you make yourself comfortable while I pour us a drink and set out the food?" He flashed a warm smile and handed me the remote.

I turned on the TV and began searching for something to watch. "Hangover?" I called out to the kitchen.

"You mean me or the movie? Yes to both," he joked back.

As I browsed through the channels, my eyes fell on a browser window filled with questionable content. My face turned crimson as I screamed, tossing the remote aside. "WHAT?" Mark's voice was suddenly right next to me. I stammered, trying to keep my composure. "Next time, when expecting a lady's visit, could you... close your tabs?" I managed to stifle a laugh.

He looked at the TV and let out a horrified gasp. "I-I... Clara, I don't know... Someone must have broken in and searched it. I swear, I'm a nice Christian boy. Okay, I closed it." He mimicked my stuttering, which only made me laugh harder.

"Christian boy? Really?" I teased, giving him a skeptical look.

"Almost a saint. Now stop being a wuss and play the movie," he retorted, grinning.

A few minutes later, we were settled on the couch, the room dimmed by the lights Mark had turned off. As we sipped rum and watched The Hangover, I felt us inching closer. Unable to resist, I gently nudged him over, laid down, and rested my head on his lap. He didn't hesitate to start running his fingers through my hair, a gesture that usually irritated me but felt oddly comforting now.

"This okay with you?" he asked softly.

I nodded vigorously, unable to hide my smile. Mark chuckled and continued stroking my hair, his touch surprisingly soothing.

Mark's POV

With Clara resting in my lap, I let my fingers trail through her hair, eventually moving to gently scratch her back. Her smile was sweet and genuine, pulling me completely out of the movie. I paused it, turning my full attention to her.

She looked up at me, her legs draped over mine. "Wassup?" she asked, her voice tinged with curiosity.

"Clara, I just... I don't want to make you uncomfortable with this," I began, but she cut me off.

"Mark," she said, shifting even closer until she was nearly sitting on my lap. "I've never been as comfortable as I am right now with you. It may be wrong, but I don't care."

Her eyes locked onto mine with a look so intense it was almost tangible. "But I feel like you might think I'm using my position of power to—"

Before she could finish, her lips pressed against mine. I pulled away, surprised. She maintained that same penetrating gaze. "You talk too much," she whispered softly.

"I'm going to hell for this," I murmured, matching her tone.

"We can be roomies," she began to giggle, but I silenced her by kissing her again.

Clara's POV

When Mark kissed me back, a wave of relief washed over me. It felt like this was exactly how things were meant to be. Our kiss was tender and romantic, a delicate balance that felt like it could shatter with any sudden movement.

As time passed, I found myself still sitting on his lap, leaning against his bicep. We only broke the kiss to giggle occasionally. The moment felt perfect, almost too perfect. Then, the kiss deepened, and Mark's hands moved with a growing urgency. He shifted me gently onto the couch and continued kissing me. I bit his lip playfully.

"If you keep doing that, I'll have to stay away from those teeth of yours," he teased, smirking.

The desire between us grew stronger, and I couldn't help but bite him again. "Okay, miss. You asked for it," he said, kissing my cheek and moving further down my neck. I let out a soft moan, unable to control my reactions.

"Be quiet, please. I'm trying to concentrate," he said, smirking.

"Well, it's easy for you to say when you're making me feel like this," I managed to cry out.

He returned to my lips, kissing me passionately. "You'll get more another day. We've had a bit too much to drink. I'd prefer if you were sober," he whispered.

Just then, my phone rang. It was Jake.

"What's up, bro?" I answered.

"Just checking if you're still alive," Jake replied.

"Yeah, I guess I am."

"Why do you sound so breathless?" Jake's voice was teasing. Mark snickered softly beside me.

"I'm with your best friend," I laughed.

"Liar. He's here with me. We're hanging out together," Jake said, and I heard a muffled moan in the background. "Come home."

"Alright, on my way." I hung up, glancing at the time. It was already 3 a.m.

"Damn. My alarm is set for 6 a.m.," Mark groaned.

"See you tomorrow at school," I said, kissing him goodbye. As I turned to leave, he caught up with me, pressing me against the wall. His eyes were intense with desire as he kissed me more passionately than before.

"You're going to be so much trouble. But you are mine," he whispered in my ear, sending shivers down my spine.

"Yes, sir," I breathed, feeling an unexpected sense of relief.

As I waited for the elevator, Mark reappeared, tossing me his hoodie. "Don't want you getting cold. Would miss you at school," he said with a crooked smile.

Mark's POV

After she left, I lay on my bed, thoughts racing. Clara's body, her lips, and the intense connection we shared filled my mind. Everything about her was both thrilling and dangerous. I couldn't help but worry about the implications—how this could jeopardize my career, how we could be caught. Yet, despite the risks, I knew she had already ensnared me, her willingness to surrender so completely revealing just how much she had come to mean to me.

I hoped she felt safe with me. I wanted to make her feel cherished, to offer her something genuine amidst the chaos. I would treat her like the queen she truly is, ensuring she never felt anything less than extraordinary.