"Are you sure you don’t want me to drive you?" he asked, unable to tear his gaze from your stunning figure clad in a provocative outfit. The way the fabric hugged your curves made it hard to concentrate on anything else.

You turned to leave, but in a moment of impulse, he pulled you back, wrapping you in a firm embrace from behind. The warmth of your body against his ignited a familiar spark within him.

"While you’re dressed like that?"

Minho watched you defend yourself and came up with better excuses. Your friend, Mindy, initiated to drive you to the club, and yet Minho felt uneasy. He chuckled softly when you raised your left hand to flaunt the diamond ring, a perfect excuse for turning down strangers.

"I don't think the ring is enough to prove that you're mine."

Minho pressed kisses along your skin, a reminder of who you belonged to. His intentions were unmistakable—he wanted to mark you, to make it abundantly clear that you belonged to him. He could already imagine the hickeys, leaving no doubt in anyone's mind.

All mine.