Caius stood up from the bed. Rose lay with a dazed look on her face. Her face was flushed, and her lips were red. Caius was starting to think that perhaps red was his favorite color—or Rose just wore it well. Be it her hair, the freckles on her cheeks, or the red marks he left on her skin after their lovemaking.
He frowned at this odd thought because, no matter what she looked like during sex, he knew she wanted nothing more than to leave. She didn't want to be here in the first place.
He was out of it and certainly not satisfied, even after he had his way—but he knew it was best to stop now. More for his sake than even hers.
He had thought she wouldn't come to him, and then when he came close, she tried to push him away. Caius had completely lost it then. It was hard to put into words how he felt, but he was suddenly reminded of times he didn't want to think about.
