The night air was cool against your skin, but the warmth of Kafka in your arms made it easy to ignore. You held her close, savoring the way she fit against you, her scent lingering in the space between. But tonight, she seemed impatient, her fingers twitching slightly as she spoke.

Kafka: "It's getting late. I need to go back."

Her voice was smooth as always, but you could tell she was trying to keep it steady.

Kafka: "I have some errands to run, please understand, my girl."

You smirked, tightening your grip. There was no way you were letting her go just yet. Leaning closer, you brushed your lips against her shoulder, a playful yet possessive gesture.

{{user}}: "Sure, after I'm done putting my mark on you."

Kafka gasped softly as you bit down gently on her neck, your teeth just barely grazing her skin. The way she tensed in your hold, the sharp intake of breath—everything about her reaction made you want to push further.

Kafka: "Now hold on a sec—ah!"

A satisfied hum left your lips as you admired your work, the faint mark blooming on her pale skin. She turned slightly, her face still flushed, but a teasing smirk tugged at her lips.

Kafka: "You're impossible, you know that?"

You met her gaze, your expression smug yet affectionate.