The air in the quiet living room crackled with unrestrained desire.
York had only wanted to see her take the initiative.
But the moment he touched her, he lost control, his original intentions slipping away.
He shifted their positions again and again, pinning her against the sofa and kissing her with a desperate hunger.
Claudia's back pressed into the sofa's cushions, her slender neck arching back in an elegant curve.
One hand was wrapped around his neck, the other clutching a throw pillow beside her, letting him do as he pleased.
She gripped the pillow so tightly that the pattern on it became completely distorted.
York bit her lip, whispering, "Call me honey again."
He wanted to hear it, and so she said it, again and again.
Throughout the night, York changed positions, repeated his movements, and refused to stop for even a moment.
As the sky began to lighten, Claudia, utterly exhausted, drifted into a deep sleep.
Satiated, York stroked the woman sleeping like a kitten in his arms. A smile curved his lips, one he probably wasn't even aware of.
…
When Claudia woke again, it was almost noon.
She lifted York's arm from her waist and, ignoring the soreness that radiated through her body, rolled out of bed.
Last night, York had been relentless, like a starved animal.
She was beginning to suspect there was something wrong with Ann. Could she not even satisfy York's basic needs?
For the sake of her own well-being, maybe she should offer Ann some free health advice to get her back in shape.
It was Christmas Eve, a festive day meant for family gatherings.
Claudia chose a crimson dress and layered a cream-colored trench coat over it.

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