Chapter 3: Scratch Marks

Words : 1759 Updated : Oct 23rd, 2025

The next day, Ryder came to get Mario for breakfast. The underwear from last night was still hidden beneath his pillow, stained with his semen. The moment he saw Ryder, Mario's heart began to race. Memories of the previous night flooded back, and guilt crashed over him like a wave. "You look a little off. Didn't sleep well last night?" Ryder asked with concern. "No, I'm fine. You go ahead and eat first. I just need to make my bed and freshen up, then I'll join you," Mario replied. "Alright!" Ryder didn't think much of it and left the bedroom. Mario exhaled in relief. He folded his summer quilt neatly, then nervously pressed down on his pillow like a guilty thief before heading to breakfast. He thought fooling Ryder would put his mind at ease, but the moment he sat down and met Nancy's eyes, his confidence crumbled again. "Oh no, Nancy's underwear is missing. There's no doubt I'm the one who took it. What am I going to do?" Panic hit him. His brow furrowed instinctively as he lowered his head to peel his egg, stealing nervous glances at Nancy from the corner of his eye to gauge her reaction. Nancy acted completely normal, chewing her food delicately, paying Mario no attention whatsoever. "Thank goodness..." Mario finally relaxed. He'd been terrified that Nancy might confront him directly. Since Ryder needed to rush to work, he ate hurriedly, completely oblivious to Mario's strange behavior. After wolfing down his breakfast, Ryder grabbed his briefcase and announced, "Honey, Mario, you two keep eating. I need to dash off to work!" "Drive carefully," Nancy said softly. Mario quickly chimed in, "Yeah, drive safe!" "I know, haha." Ryder flashed a grin before hurrying out the door. The company had landed a major contract recently, and the client was breathing down their necks. What a headache! After Ryder left, Nancy and Mario continued their breakfast in awkward silence. The atmosphere grew painfully tense as neither knew what to say. Mario finished his meal, on pins and needles, then moved to clear the dishes. "Let me do that." Nancy took the bowls and chopsticks from Mario's hands, her soft fingers accidentally brushing across his palm. Mario's heart fluttered again, but he didn't dare say anything. Nancy carried the dishes to the kitchen, turned on the faucet, and began humming to herself as she washed the bowls with graceful movements. Maybe it was the constant motion of her hands, or the gentle sway of her hips as she hummed, but the scene struck Mario as incredibly alluring. He stared at Nancy's shapely figure, mesmerized by her silhouette. Nancy had an exceptional figure-five foot seven, with a slender waist, curved hips, and long, elegant legs. Her enticing proportions could rival any professional model. Watching Nancy hum and sway her hips, Mario felt his composure slip once again. Recalling the intimate moments from the night before, Mario couldn't shake the feeling that Nancy was calling to him. He gulped and walked toward the kitchen. Nancy kept washing dishes, completely unaware of Mario's approach. She hummed to herself, rinsing the soap suds from the bowls. "Nancy," Mario suddenly appeared behind her, his hot breath brushing her ear and sending an unusual tingle through her body. "Ah!" Nancy jumped, startled. The bowl slipped from her hands with a crash, breaking in half in the sink. But Mario didn't care. He was a young man in his prime, and after making the first move-consequences be damned. He seized the moment of Nancy's confusion to wrap his arms around her, kissing her frantically. Being suddenly embraced and kissed caught Nancy completely off guard. She instinctively pushed against Mario, shoving and clawing at him. In the struggle, she raked his neck hard, the stinging pain instantly sobering him. "Nancy, I'm sorry..." Mario hadn't expected such fierce resistance. Guilt overwhelmed him. Ryder had been so good to him, yet here he was harboring inappropriate feelings for his cousin's wife. How could he be so shameless, so despicable? With that thought, Mario slapped himself hard across the face. "I'm sorry, Nancy. I didn't mean to..." Seeing Mario strike himself so forcefully, Nancy was startled. As he kept apologizing, she quickly grabbed his wrist to stop him. "You silly boy, have you lost your mind? Why are you hitting yourself so hard?" She instinctively blew on the sore spot. Her scent drifted over him, and Mario felt himself floating on air from Nancy's gentle breath. His heart grew even more conflicted. Nancy wasn't treating him coldly, which tormented Mario most. He couldn't forget the image of Nancy naked on the floor, nor could he erase the memory of her soft moans and expressions when he massaged her feet. These fantasies consumed him completely. At this moment, he almost wished Nancy would despise or hate him-maybe then these thoughts would finally stop. Unlike Mario, Nancy wasn't overthinking it. This young man had been staying with them for half the semester now. As an only child, she'd always longed for a younger sibling to keep her company. She'd come to care for Mario like a real little brother. While Nancy felt somewhat annoyed by Mario's rough behavior, part of her was secretly pleased-though it seemed contradictory, it was a perfectly normal reaction-like anyone who dresses to turn heads: you bristle at leers but still want the attention and compliments. After blowing on his cheek, Nancy noticed the scratch marks on Mario's neck and blushed. "Let me put some ointment on that. Your cousin will be back tonight, and if he sees those marks on your neck, how am I supposed to explain..." Seeing that Nancy had no intention of calling him out, Mario relaxed again. He grinned sheepishly and said, "Just tell him I got it from scratching an itch!" "Anyone can tell that's not from scratching an itch. Stop being silly and go get the ointment," Nancy said with playful reproach. Mario hurried to fetch the ointment from the medicine cabinet while Nancy quickly finished washing and tidying up the dishes. Once he found the ointment, Nancy had Mario sit on the sofa. She bent over him, spreading the ointment evenly on her fingertips before gently applying it to the scratch marks on his neck. Her earlier pushback was just instinct; deep down, she didn't really mind Mario. She caught herself wondering what she would've done if he'd kept going. She didn't dare let her mind go there. Her cheeks began to flush and burn...

Chapter 3: Scratch Marks

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