Persephone's hand wandered up and down his body.
Morpheus grabbed her hand with a frown. He exerted too much force, causing her to let out a low gasp. He quickly let go and turned to look at her.
"Did I hurt you?"
Persephone pouted, turning her face away.
Morpheus stood there stiffly, not reacting for a while. Despite that, there was a restlessness within him, a raging tumult—his last bit of rationality felt fragile and almost laughable.
Persephone lowered her head, her face getting warmer. Outside, the rain poured heavily, but the temperature inside the cave shot up. Her heartbeat echoed loudly in her ears.
"Morpheus..." After a silent moment, she approached him again, placing her hands on his waist and resting her head against his solid chest.
Morpheus panicked, afraid she might sense something was not quite calm with him.
"Sephy, don't do this!"
"Don't you..."
"Not now!"
Morpheus grasped her shoulders. How could he not want to? But he couldn't. He feared hurting her. Not restraining themselves in this situation would only hurt her.
"Even if I desire you, it can't be now!" He looked into her eyes, his voice low. "It will be after your studies—when I formally propose to your parents and marry you through proper rituals! On our wedding night!
"Sephy..." He swallowed, his voice husky. "I need to be responsible for you!"
Persephone blinked her beautiful eyes, radiating a soft, warm light that brightened the cave.
She gradually calmed down. Once she regained composure, she chuckled, her cheeks flushed. She murmured, "You make it sound like I'm shamelessly begging you..."
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