Mark’s eyes snapped open the second I said it.

His grip on my waist tightened, his fingers pressed into my skin like he was trying to ground himself. His gaze was locked onto mine, still a little hazy from exhaustion.

“Sage,” he rasped, his voice was rough. He was weak from the fever, but now, he was Mark—still very strong, and still overwhelming.

My stomach flipped. Heat curled low inside me. “I want you to fuck me,” I whispered, pressing hips against him.

His whole body tensed ...