Gojo’s head snaps to the side from the impact, but he just laughs. Megumi wants to slap him again. “What’s wrong? You don’t want me to mark you?”  He gives a mocking pout before sitting up, hands catching the hem of Megumi’s damp t-shirt and hauling it up and over his head in one, ruthless motion. He tosses the fabric aside, then his palm comes to rest heavily over the wild thudding of Megumi’s heart. With firm pressure, Gojo pushes Megumi  back down. “You’ve been mine long before you crawled into my bed and rubbed your soaked cunt all over my sheets.”