Man in black - sequel

17.Prized possession.

I stirred in my sleep, the pressure in my bladder too strong to ignore. I blinked my eyes open, only to be hit with a wave of discomfort. My whole body ached—no, screamed. What the hell did this man do to me?

I looked down. I was wearing his black t-shirt—oversized, hanging off my shoulders like a dress, smelling like him. Slowly, groggily, I tried to sit up, but my legs gave a little protest of their own. Just great.

Duncan lay next to me, semi-naked, one arm lazily thrown across the pillow. He looked far too peaceful for someone who'd waged war on my body last night.

I didn't want to talk to him. I didn't even want to look at him. But my bladder had other plans.

Sensing my movement, he cracked an eye open. "What happened, love?" he asked, voice gravelly with sleep and unfairly sexy.

I weakly lifted my pinky finger in the air.

"Oh," he blinked, sitting up slightly, "you need to pee? Go ahead then... wait, what's wrong?" His brows furrowed, clearly not putting two and two together.

Was he... seriously confused?

I shot him a death glare.

His eyes widened. "Oh. Oh. Right." He scratched the back of his head sheepishly, a small grin forming. "Sorry . Let me help you."

He walked around the bed and scooped me up in his arms like I weighed nothing. "So, lights on or off ?" he teased.

I didn't answer.

"No answer? I'll take that as 'lights off,'" he said with a mischievous smirk.

I groaned and lightly smacked his chest.

"Ow," he chuckled. "Okay, okay, lights on, baby girl ."

He pushed open the bathroom door and gently set me down on the toilet, his large frame leaning against the doorframe like he had all the time in the world.

I glared at him again, giving him a clear signal: Get. Out.

"Seriously, love? After everything we did last night, and now you're shy?" he grinned.

I groaned louder, on the verge ofbrsting into flames.

"Alright, alright! I'll wait outside. Knock when you're done," he said, backing out with both hands up in surrender.

Once I finished and stood up, I caught my reflection in the mirror. Curiosity made me lift the T-shirt. My jaw dropped.

I was covered—bite marks, hickeys, fingerprints... He had practically signed his name all over me. How jealous was this man?

"Baby girl? Are you done? I'm coming in—"

I stayed silent, still analyzing the battlefield on my skin.

"Baby girl?"

"Love?"

"I'm worried now, I'm coming in—" The door opened.

I quickly yanked the shirt down.

Rolling my eyes at his dramatics, I lifted my arms like a stubborn toddler. Wordlessly demanding a lift.

He smiled like he won the lottery and carried me back to the bed. As soon as he laid me down, he slipped in next to me, trying to wrap his arms around me.

I wasn't having it.

I pushed him off, turned my back to him, and dramatically placed the pillow under my head . I knew he hated that.

He huffed. Oh, that sound was music to my ears. A victorious little smile tugged at my lips.

But of course, Duncan was nothing if not determined. His arms snaked around my waist again, stronger this time, pulling me to his chest. He shoved the pillow aside and slid his arm under my head, replacing it with himself.