Zoe continued to caress his handsome face.

After a moment, Mason caught her delicate fingers, preventing her from touching him further.

He firmly pinned her wrist to the pillow. Just as he was about to fully indulge in the moment, Mason noticed some faint pink scars on Zoe's fair wrist. It was remnants of the cuts she had inflicted the last time he forced her.

Mason's black eyes narrowed slightly. However, he chose to be gentle, pressing against her without being rough. He kissed the delicate scars tenderly, his voice husky and uncharacteristically soft. "Does it still hurt?"

Unable to bear the memories, Zoe turned her face away. That night in the hotel, Mason had treated her like a prostitute, and she could not forget or let go of it.

She could endure his roughness, but his tenderness was unbearable. It reminded her of the times when she had begged him for affection and pity, like a stray dog desperate for love.

With moist eyes, Zoe suddenly cupped Mason's handsome face. Her