CHAPTER 273: CHAPTER 272: DO YOU HAVE OTHER WOMEN?

She suddenly turned to him, her bare shoulder brushing against his arm as she looked up with a teasing glint in her eyes.

"Hey," she said lightly, her voice soft but edged with curiosity. "Be honest. Do you have other women?"

Rex blinked, as if the question demanded serious contemplation. He tilted his head slightly, pretending to think deeply, eyes narrowing with mock focus. Then, without saying a word, he slowly lifted his hand and began silently counting on his fingers... one by one... with a perfectly serious expression, as though tallying an important list.

His performance was so exaggeratedly sincere that it took Monica a second to register what he was doing. When she did, her expression shifted instantly, from curious to scandalized.

"You—!"

Before he could even crack a smile, she pounced. With a small growl, she sank her teeth into his shoulder—not hard enough to draw blood, but enough to make him flinch. Her teeth sank into his skin with playful vengeance, and her eyes dared him to keep joking.

"Ahh—! What the hell?" Rex cried, flinching. "Let go! Are you the reincarnation of a cat? Why are you biting people without reason?!"

She didn’t answer, only snorted through her nose, but refused to let go, her arms loosely draped over him like a lazy predator unwilling to release her prey.

"Sigh! Unprovoked violence... this is what I get for answering honestly," he muttered dramatically.

She finally loosened her bite, just enough to speak. "You dare count," she hissed in mock outrage.

"Well, I had to make sure I didn’t forget anyone," he said with a mischievous grin, still committed to the bit.

Her eyes widened. "Agh!" she shouted and lunged again, biting the same spot—this time harder.

"Aghh! You menace!" Rex squirmed, grabbing her waist in a half-hearted attempt to shake her off. "I should’ve lied—said you were the first and only, maybe brought you flowers, recited poetry... not give an honest, well-reasoned list."

"You should’ve," she said smugly, still clinging to him like a mischievous vine. Her lips curled into a satisfied smirk as she watched him squirm around.

He tilted his head down to her, exasperated but amused. "Alright, fine. You wanna play rough?"

Without warning, he shifted slightly, wrapping his arms tightly around her bare frame. Then, with a smirk, he leaned in and began kissing the side of her neck, right beneath her ear.

It started gentle, soft, teasing brushes of his lips that made her breath catch. But it didn’t stay that way. Slowly, deliberately, his kisses deepened, lips pressing with intent, his warm breath trailing goosebumps along her skin. She shivered instinctively, her playful attitude dissolving with every slow drag of his mouth along her sensitive spot.

The effect was immediate. Her body tensed, then melted against his. A small sound escaped her lips, half protest, half surrender. Her grip on him weakened. She let go of his shoulder, her breath faltering, her cheek brushing against his as she lowered her head.

"That’s cheating," she whispered, though there was no bite left in her tone.

"Call it strategy," he replied, eyes gleaming.

He chuckled low in his throat. He had mapped every inch of this woman’s body last night, traced it with his hands and lips, and memorized the way she responded to each touch. And her neck, her neck was her Achilles’ heel.

Her body, which moments ago was tense and rebellious, now felt soft and warm in his embrace. He loosened his grip, just slightly, to give her space to breathe, to look into her eyes again.

She let out a half-hearted protest but didn’t move away. Her fingers slid into his hair, resting there like she’d forgotten her little revenge altogether.

He leaned back just enough to look into her eyes. She was flushed, lips parted, chest rising a little faster now. And in that quiet, breathless space between them, neither said a word.

They stared at each other, eyes locked in a silent exchange. There was no need for teasing now. Something in the way they looked at each other made it feel like the world had slowed down, like they were the only two people who existed. It wasn’t dramatic or grand, just deeply personal. A kind of closeness that didn’t need to be explained.

And then, as if they both felt the exact same pull at the exact same time, they leaned forward and kissed again.

It wasn’t frantic, but it wasn’t gentle either... it was hungry and deep, mouths pressed together like they were trying to erase the space between them completely. Despite the bruises still left on their lips from last night’s reckless passion, neither hesitated. They welcomed the sting, the reminder of how raw and real it had been.

His hand slipped down her back, tracing the curve of her waist before gripping her hip firmly. He had already memorized this body, its warmth, its rhythm, its responses, but there was something intoxicating about touching her again that felt new all over. Like even if he explored her a hundred times, it still wouldn’t be enough.

Monica wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him in closer, pressing herself into him with a sigh that felt like a release. She wasn’t thinking about yesterday or tomorrow. Right now, she only knew this moment, this heat, this man.

Their breaths grew shallow, mingling between parted lips as they kissed until their lungs ached. Eventually, they pulled apart just slightly, resting forehead to forehead, both flushed and breathless, hearts thudding wildly against each other.

Rex brushed a strand of hair from her face and smiled. She was still in his arms, still recovering from the kiss, and yet she looked like she was exactly where she belonged.

"And for your question, I don’t have any other women." He said. At least not yet, he added internally.

"Humph!" she just snorted, clearly not believing, especially with his looks, but didn’t say anything.

And for a while, neither of them felt like filling the silence with words. Their bodies spoke in ways language never could.

What they had wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t scripted or clean. It wasn’t what movies or fairy tales promised. But it was real... raw, messy, unpredictable... and somehow, that made it even more beautiful.

(End of Chapter)