"Fuck you," Gwen muttered, her frustration clear, though her hands continued moving as if on autopilot. She knew she had about ten minutes—if that—to make Ross finish again.
But deep down, her instincts told her it was futile. Ross was toying with her, and no matter how many times she succeeded, he would remain as tricky as ever.
Her gut twisted with the realization: Ross was far from normal.
He wasn't bound by the limitations of ordinary men, and that mysterious alien quality of his only reinforced the power imbalance between them.
It took Gwen only a few moments to strip completely, her clothes neatly piled on the side of the bench.
With a deep breath to steady herself, she stepped closer to Ross, who remained seated and utterly still, his calm demeanor unshaken.
She wasted no time in closing the gap between them, leaning in to kiss him with all the skill and intensity she could muster. Their bodies pressed together, the heat between them palpable.
