Change

"Each floor has its own private elevator and dedicated hall, so residents rarely run into each other."

He spoke as he unlocked the glass door directly in front of where he had parked with a card key. Inside was a hall space of about ten to thirteen square meters, furnished with a comfortable three-seater sofa.

On the wall beside the elevator, where buttons should have been, there was only a black digital pad. When he tapped his card key against it the door opened, and when he touched the card to the interior pad, the button for the fifth floor lit up automatically. The elevator could only move between the parking level and lobby floor, the first and second basement levels, and the fifth floor. No other floors were accessible.

"As you probably saw when we came in, outsiders can't even access the complex itself. That's partly because this is a hillside location, but we also raised the ground during construction to get a clearer view of the Han River. There are five units in total, one per floor from the first to the fifth, but you should think of it as floors three through seven. The first and second basement levels don't have a great Han River view, so they were designated as common areas."

I listened to his explanation as he waved the card key like a fan, but the only thing I could glean from the situation was that the villa he had brought me to was exceptionally high-end.

The elevator doors opened on the opposite side from where we'd entered. As soon as we stepped out, there was the entryway — more precisely, a rectangular room used as an entrance hall. The long foyer, paved in light gold-beige marble, was neat and devoid of any unnecessary ornamentation.

"You can leave your shoes on."

As I hesitated at the threshold leading from the entryway to the corridor, he closed the sleek, handleless built-in storage unit he'd been checking and approached from behind as he spoke.

To get from the entrance hall to the actual living space, we had to pass through another L-shaped corridor. The structure was designed with significant attention to privacy — the interior was completely invisible from the entryway.

"The architecture itself makes it difficult for outsiders to approach, but we also keep five or more guards stationed here twenty-four hours a day, so you can be quite assured about safety."

At the end of the corridor, a vast space opened up — there was no other way to describe it. The high ceiling provided a superb sense of openness, and one entire wall was finished with glass. Thanks to that, even on a cloudy day like today, there was plenty of light.

"I bought this place for rental income from foreigners, but the previous tenant's contract ended in May, and they completely settled their affairs in Korea and returned home. Since then, no new tenant has appeared, and I was already considering moving here myself. What do you think? Do you like it?"

He asked, glancing back at me — still standing awkwardly at the end of the hallway — as he slowly surveyed the simply furnished living room. His tone was as casual as if he were picking up a T-shirt from a display rack and asking about it.

It would be a lie to say I had no idea what he meant by asking if I liked it. But if my understanding of his intention was correct, the reason behind it this time was incomprehensible.

Perhaps thinking my hesitation meant I wasn't particularly impressed, he began elaborating on the house's good qualities.

"It's a duplex structure, so our privacy will be guaranteed almost as if we're living separately — both for you, Seo Yeehyeon, and for me. Since I'll only be home in the evenings due to work, you should be able to concentrate on your painting without any issue."

He walked toward the living room window, twisted the handle down to unlock it, and slowly slid the large glass door open to the left.

Despite being on the seventh floor of a villa, a spacious garden unfolded right in front of the panoramic window. A real garden — grass, soil, and landscaping. Beyond it flowed the gray Han River, speckled with drizzling rain.

A cool draft carrying the scent of damp earth rushed inside. Only then did I notice how stuffy the air in the room had been.

"When the weather is nice, you can work out in the garden, and there's nothing to disturb you. Quiet, isn't it?"

After sliding the door all the way open, he turned toward me and smiled.

If I hadn't misunderstood, he was recommending this luxury villa as my atelier and temporary residence — and probably suggesting that I live here with him.

Seeing that I still hadn't reacted, he walked back toward me. He made almost no sound with his dress shoes as he stepped across the marble tiles, which were so finely colored they appeared pale pink.

He walked up to me — standing awkwardly in one corner of the living room like a potted plant that didn't match the décor — and bent slightly at the waist to look closely at my face. Sunglasses. I needed sunglasses, but I'd already returned them to him in the car.

"You don't look like you like the place."

It wasn't a question of liking it or not. Even if I couldn't stay at Manager Han's place indefinitely, I hadn't been expecting anything this luxurious.

"So where were you planning to stay?"

"......"

He asked as if he could read the question in my mind.

"They'll figure out you're staying at Manager Han's place pretty quickly. Frankly, I suspect her residence was already exposed some time ago anyway."

As he spoke, he straightened up and folded his arms firmly across his chest.

"We will provide every convenience necessary so you can focus on your art in a secure space."

"......"

"It's not like I bought this place specifically for you, Seo Yeehyeon. I was already considering staying here since it was empty anyway, so you don't need to feel burdened at all. I did purchase it as a rental property, but I've always liked the layout and the view — I've been interested in living here for a while myself. Besides, even if I live here alone, I won't be using the entire space anyway."

Setting aside the fact that he was an incredibly wealthy man, I rarely felt the gap in our financial circumstances during conversations with him. He wasn't the type to flaunt his wealth.

This was the first time I had felt such a stark difference in our sensibilities to the point where it left a strong impression.

The house was empty anyway, he was already considering moving here anyway, and even if he lived alone there would be leftover space anyway — so there was no financial sacrifice on his part. Explaining to him, who offered this simple logic, that one could feel emotionally burdened regardless of financial sacrifice probably wouldn't be persuasive.

"About the Phantom work, and Manager Han's situation..."

After looking down at me for a moment as I barely managed to ask that, he uncrossed his arms and lightly took hold of my wrist. He tugged me gently down the hallway past the living room, suggesting that since I had come this far, I should at least look around the house.

"You've been a great help with the practical work, so I certainly regret losing you for the Phantom matters, Seo Yeehyeon. But you need to focus solely on your painting. Or do you plan to treat it like Choi Inwu — just a hobby?"

He turned to me in front of the master bedroom downstairs and asked as if seeking confirmation.

I hadn't planned on treating it as a hobby, but ever since my uncle appeared, I'd been focused entirely on Morae nuna and Yeehan hyung's affairs, and hadn't yet thought concretely about other aspects.

He paused, looking down at me for a moment, then opened the bedroom door inward and continued.

"You understand that the work assisting Manager Han must also be put on hold, right? Aside from the work itself, simply entering and leaving that house right now isn't particularly safe for you, Seo Yeehyeon. The same goes for Manager Han."

That was another aspect I hadn't considered. Even though it was my own situation, the fact that he was viewing it from a much broader perspective and preparing countermeasures made me feel grateful and ashamed at the same time.

He stood me in front of the bed, its mattress cover removed to prevent dust from settling, then walked to the large window facing the garden — just like in the living room — roughly pulled aside the sheer curtains, and left the window halfway open.

Although decorated to be slightly cozier than the living room, the bedroom was just as stark, showing no signs of life.

"It's all too sudden, and everything is moving so fast... I don't quite... grasp what's happening..."

He came back to me as I mumbled incoherently, absently running my hand over the bare skin of my arm beneath my short sleeves.

I felt stifled looking up at his face as he let out a breath, his chest lifting and then falling. I felt bad for not being able to readily accept his kindness and goodwill, but I was too small right now to keep up with the rapid developments that had far exceeded my expectations.

He looked down at me with an apologetic expression, furrowing his brow as he scratched the top of his smooth forehead.

"Did I push you too hard?"

"......"

I shook my head emphatically, as if that were the only way I could convey my sincerity to him.

I also hated how he always noticed my hesitation and worry first, and then apologized for it. Even as I told myself I liked him, my own inadequacy — the fact that I was only ever receiving from him — forced me to hang my head low.

"No. It's just that you considered aspects I hadn't even thought of... I'm very grateful."

If he hadn't been here, if I hadn't met him, how would I have handled this situation?

I wouldn't have been able to handle it. The reality was that Morae nuna, hyung, and I were still socially incapable and lacked the real power to solve problems.

Even though not all the issues were cleanly resolved, escaping a crisis that could have spiraled into the worst-case scenario and advancing things to this degree was entirely thanks to his help.

"It's just that these were options I'd never considered... so I'm flustered. You've done nothing wrong, Director..."

"I know."

He stopped my halting confession — as if reaching into my chest, stirring it gently, and carefully drawing out the right words.

"I know you're grateful enough. You don't have to keep saying it."

"......"

Gathering my courage from his warm words, I looked up to meet his gaze, and his face was contorted. It was a very subtle fissure, but emotions like pity, empathy, and regret — all tangled together — were flickering in his eyes as he looked at me.

I recalled the earlier him, who had kept me fixed outside his frame as someone who would help for a little while and then disappear.

At least one thing was clear.

In one form or another, I was now included within the scope of his kindness and concern. His eyes told me there was no need to doubt that.

Anything beyond that — being special, being the only one — to wish for such things felt like pure greed, setting aside any question of my station or place. I was already receiving far too much help as it was.

He had been watching me silently from about two steps away, but then darted his gaze away as if fleeing, his expression strained and unsteady. The side of his face — fingers laced through his casually styled hair — looked almost nervous as he restlessly ran them through it.

"What do you like? Drinking? Shopping? Traveling? It probably isn't any of those... I just wish I knew."

It occurred to me then that perhaps coming to the airport, bringing me to this house, making a new offer — perhaps all of it was to console me after seeing Morae nuna and Yeehan hyung off.

"Or maybe you want to go have drinks with Baek Yuni or Kwon Juhan? They'd probably be better company than me."

I grabbed his arm as he pulled out his phone, looking as if he were about to contact nuna and hyung immediately. He looked back at me, his eyes widening slightly in surprise at my sudden, clinging insistence that stopped him in his tracks.

Unsure how to begin, I bit my lower lip before finally resting my forehead against the edge of his shoulder, a gesture of surrender.

Now that Morae nuna and hyung had safely left the country, the relief I felt was ironically allowing me to gradually realize just how deeply anxious I had been. Behind the reassurance that they were safe and I could finally breathe — there followed closely a hollowness, as if a part of my chest had been torn away.

If I was going to find comfort and solace for that feeling from someone, there was only one person I wanted to be my companion.

"......"

He paused for a moment before putting his phone back into his pocket.

His palm cupped my entire cheek. My head was lifted by a gentle force.

"Are you sad?"

His voice, refined and unbefitting the word sadness, was nothing but calm, unlike just a moment ago.

I had given up on naming the emotion because it was too complex to be defined simply by the single word "sadness," but if I looked at it in the most straightforward way — this was sorrow. Because the people I loved had gone far away, I was sad.

I had been pretending to accept the situation, as I always did, without expressing it — but I was already feeling wistful and lost about my life continuing without them, and their lives continuing without me. To me, who was hovering at the edges of those feelings, afraid to touch them for fear of not knowing how to process them, he offered the chance to admit my sadness.

His hand burrowed a little deeper, as if cupping my ear rather than my cheek. Even if it wasn't quite that scent — anything was fine.

"I... think I am sad."

Leaning my face gently against his hand, I corrected myself and answered.

"Yes. I am sad."

"......"

He narrowed his eyes and carefully examined every part of my face, as if trying to read some invisible message from me. That scent, which I hadn't detected at all just moments before, was beginning to register faintly amidst the other fragrances.

"I told you — if you want something, you just have to say the word. That you can have it anytime. You silly thing..."

As if throwing the last words into the air, the moment he finished speaking he lowered his head and pressed his lips deeply against mine. My waist was pulled in, and my chest pressed tightly against his.

The force of his hand against the back of my head parted my lips, and his tongue filled my mouth. That familiar scent instantly overwhelmed my nose and mouth, and I took a deep breath through my nose as it swept in, wrapping my arms around his back and holding him tight.

He held me close, tilting his head as he kissed me deeply, as if pouring a precious medicine into me.

The embrace — which pressed against my waist and chest so tightly it made breathing difficult — was almost like being restrained. Feeling a sense of relief in his arms where not even a gap remained between us, I squeezed his broad back hard with my own arms.

His tongue scraped the roof of my mouth before hastily withdrawing from mine, and unwilling to let go, I grabbed his jacket and thrust my tongue toward his lips. My tongue was immediately swallowed.

"Mmm, ugh... yes."

The strong suction pulling my tongue in all at once to its maximum depth echoed deep inside my throat. His left arm, which had been gripping my waist, clamped down on my rear over my jeans.

We kept our eyes open. At a distance close enough that our noses brushed, we sucked and probed each other's tongues, obsessively searching the other's eyes as they grew rapidly slick with desire. As if that scrutiny itself were another stimulant for arousal.

His strength — holding me and kissing me so hard that my ribs ached and my tongue went numb, as if asserting his presence — conversely affirmed my own existence. Even if I was a faint outline, a blurry color, in this moment I was an object of his desire and need.

No, today at least, I was more than merely an object of lust. This heat was surely the comfort he was offering me.

"Hah, ugh."

He released his tongue, which had been filling and sucking mine, and pressed me against the wall. A dull pain shot through me as my back hit the surface, and his thick thigh drove between my legs.

The explicit friction applied more directly to my cock momentarily blurred my mind, and I felt as if my body was rising. I looped my arms up under his armpits and wrapped them over his shoulders, pulling myself closer.

"Ahh — ugh… hah…"

He heated up instantly, his shoulders heaving as he breathed deeply, then clasped my hips with both hands and pulled me up as if hoisting me onto his thigh.

Looking down at each other's lips from beneath our lowered eyelids, we extended our tongues to rub tip to tip. The friction of wet flesh touching outside the body was entirely different from the kisses happening inside our mouths. Even with no one watching, the rebellious pleasure of exposing something intimate to the outside sent a thrilling jolt through my tongue.

My heels lifted with each upward pull of his hands. The thigh pressed between my legs felt harder than usual, taut with a sudden surge of desire. My chest, pressed against his shoulder, was the same. His body was so aroused that the distinct contours of his muscles were clearly visible even through his clothes.

It was as if he were moving inside me while staying outside. As he pulled me up and let me down, he occasionally shook his thigh, adding an obscene stimulation between my legs.

"Ugh — hah… ngh…"

Each time he shook, the vibrations of my body carried over into tremors in my breath, and he looked down at me with half-lidded eyes, taking in the sight.

Depending on the angle, his eyes broke into shades of white and blue, and it seemed as though he were seeing ecstasy through me. Even if that was my delusion, it was at least a relief not to feel like the only one craving his warmth, burning like this.

I had no experience, no techniques gained from experience, not even any inherent seductive charm — I couldn't fathom what sexual appeal he could possibly find in someone as bland as me...

He glanced down and muttered.

"What should we do? I don't think I can hold back today..."

As if to prove his words weren't a lie, the front of his pants was already pressing outward.

It might sound a little strange to say this, but even normally, his cock was often impossible to ignore. When he twisted his body into certain positions, when he shifted the angle of his crossed legs, when he had both hands jammed into his pockets — honestly, it made its presence known in a way that was hard to look past. Ever since I slept with him, I had to force myself to push it out of my line of sight whenever that happened.

Now his erection was straining so prominently it looked almost constricted, pushing the zipper of his pants taut. Noticing my gaze fixed downward, he smiled faintly and kissed my forehead.

He kissed my forehead, then my eyelids, then my temples, with a hot intensity, before burying his lips in my ear and whispering.

"You really like my thing, don't you."

"Ugh..."

I wanted to deny it, but I wanted to stop being cowardly — leaving him to be the only one raising the tension while I pretended I had no part in it.

It was true that I'd been looking at him. It was true that I was anticipating something thrilling and slick to come, given the unnatural prominence of his bulge, as if something artificial had been inserted. So — let's stop denying it just because I was embarrassed.

He deliberately rubbed against me more, pressing his thigh deep. The slow, sweeping motion of his hips was unbearably erotic.

"Hah… ugh…"

I was on edge — the way he moved his waist just enough for my swelling cock inside my jeans and the thick mound of his own arousal, which looked ready to rip through the zipper, to barely brush against each other. The teasing friction made me impatient.

I bit down hard on my lower lip, trying to suppress the groan that was already threatening to burst out, but his lips immediately came and stole the lip I was biting. The way he sucked hard enough to cause a throbbing ache was one of my favorite forms of foreplay.

Savoring the sweet, spreading pain, I tightened my grip on his shoulders. Pushing off the marble floor with my toes... I couldn't hold back and pressed my own cock against his.

"Mm…"

He sucked at my lips harder, slipping his hand under my T-shirt to stroke my back. His hand glided smoothly across my skin before reversing course and sliding inside my jeans. Since I was practically sitting on his thigh, his hand fumbled over the fleshy curve of my hips that had pushed up, before working its way between my legs.

"Ngh… ah — "

I turned my head, pulling my lips free, and shook my head. I was aroused by the mere fact that he was approaching my hole, the place he could enter... and I was rocking my hips on his thigh as if bouncing. The moment I became aware of it, I felt ashamed enough to die, but I couldn't stop myself.

My shaking head and my heaving hips were both parts of my body, yet they were expressing completely different intentions.

He pulled me into his chest with one arm and rubbed my skin hard with his middle finger, sliding it into the crevice between my legs. Resting my chin on his shoulder, I rubbed my body freely against his in a state of complete contact.

Shoulders, chest, abdomen, thighs — every part of his body was composed of well-trained muscle, and the prominent contours of that mass stirred arousal in me every time we ground against each other. Bulging, firm, unyielding — hard enough that it wouldn't budge even if I punched it — I ran my hands over all of it.

Because the thigh supporting and bouncing between my legs, and his fingers sliding in and out of the crevice, kept evoking the sensation of penetration, my hips twisted of their own accord. I could no longer suppress the craving to have him naked.

Burying my lips against his neck and rubbing softly, I gathered all my courage and confessed.

"I can't hold back either."

It was a faster, more voluntary surrender than before — when I'd only begun to be honest under his teasing and encouragement, after the heat from his caresses had sufficiently muddled my head.

"......"

Without a word he stilled, then pulled his hand out of my jeans while simultaneously grabbing the hem of my T-shirt and lifting it up. I reflexively raised my arms, and in an instant the T-shirt was off. He tossed it carelessly onto the low cabinet where the slim, modern TV sat, then wrapped his arms around my thighs and lifted me.

"Ugh."

I wrapped my arms around his neck on instinct so I wouldn't fall. My body was now high enough to look down at his face. Though I was only a little shorter than him — less than half a hand's span — objectively speaking, I was by no means small or petite. He hoisted me up without any help from momentum, and even shook me up and down a couple of times as if gauging my weight while walking toward the bed.

"I knew you were thin, but... you're not hollow inside, are you?"

His face was serious, as if this was genuinely unacceptable.

"You've got height, at least. Do you even eat one meal a day?"

His muttered remark — adding, as if to himself, that he'd have to keep me locked up until I gained some weight — reminded me of the witch from the gingerbread house in the fairy tales I'd read as a child, and I burst out laughing.

"You think I'm joking."

He collapsed onto the mattress while still holding me, then looked down at me from above, cupping both my cheeks in one hand and squeezing them. The pressure from both sides repeatedly puckered and released my lips, making my face feel like a goldfish's. I gently pulled his wrist down, which only made him let out a soft chuckle.

Then he sat up, tossing his jacket aside. He gathered my legs together and pushed them toward his left side as he leaned in to kiss me. My lower body was angled to the side while my upper body faced forward, but it wasn't uncomfortable.

I felt his arm wrap around the back of my neck and pull my shoulders in, and I looped my arms around his neck in return. His other hand moved below, unfastening my jeans and pulling down the zipper.

"Ngh… ah…"

The moment the zipper opened, his hand shot inside and gripped my cock through my briefs with surprising strength, making my arms around him tense up immediately. Seeing my reaction he seemed to heat up further, and the movement of his tongue inside my mouth grew more urgent.

His large hand moved deep past my cock, rubbing broadly between my legs, then wiggled his fingers and scraped across my entrance over my underwear. The teasing, suggestive touch made me groan and twist, able to do nothing but keep readjusting my hold on his neck.

His hand swept back across the space between my thighs and then pulled my jeans and briefs down together from behind. Since my lower body was already angled to the side, my clothes came off easily. The jeans, pulled down inside-out, fell heavily to the floor below the bed along with my underwear.

When I became conscious of it, I was already naked.

It was darker than usual because of the rain, but it was still the middle of the day. This was an empty house — his property, but not the home where he lived. A setting I had never imagined for us coming together again. The unexpectedness of the time and place tensed my body in a way that felt different from before.

Before I could dwell any deeper on that thought, he began undoing his belt buckle. The act itself — him leaning his body over mine while continuing to kiss me, working his belt below for serious sex — made me swallow hard.

With a soft sound he broke the kiss deeply, gently rubbing my shoulders as he whispered.

"Will you take off my shirt?"

My movements reaching for his shirt — already unbuttoned to the second button — were slow and clumsy. This was the first time I had ever undressed someone else.

While I fumbled clumsily with both hands, he peppered kisses alternately on my forehead, the bridge of my nose, my cheeks, and my lips, and before I realized it, he had taken off his pants and was down to his underwear.

Looking down, I could clearly see the shape of his erection through the black briefs. The tip of his cock, which strained against the fabric as if threatening to tear through the cotton, was already slick and stained a darker color.

"Thank you."

Once the last button was undone, he brushed my hair back with the hand that had been on my shoulder and kissed my brow. Receiving thanks just for unbuttoning his shirt made me have the foolish thought that perhaps I should have been thanking him every time he lifted me or helped me undress — but I knew that would only ruin the mood.

He pulled away and sat up, positioning my now-naked legs along both sides of his waist. The way his body moved between my spread legs called to mind the intimate contact and union that would soon occur at our most private point. My cheeks flushed.

"Hnngh..."

He pressed his lips tightly shut, regulating his breathing through his nose, and swept the hair falling over his forehead away. He began rubbing his briefs between my legs with a supple roll of his hips.

Beneath the damp fabric, the prominent bulge pressing against the space between my thighs sent a strange thrill through me, and I felt myself growing wet inside. Without touching my body at all, he stayed pressed there for a moment, moving only his hips to bring his cock into contact with my entrance.

His torso, glimpsed through the open buttons of his shirt, traced clear lines — deeply carved abs, thick and firm. But the way he slowly rotated his hips, pressing his cock exactly where he wanted it, showed a fluidity that was impossible for someone so powerfully built.

"Ngh… hah… ah — "

Each time he pushed his hips forward, grinding his prominent flesh against me, I couldn't help but moan. He was so focused, so present in the act that mimicked intercourse — it was impossibly sexy... My glutes contracted involuntarily, clenching around him without my command. I couldn't believe my body was reacting this way, but this was the pleasure of sex I had learned through him, discovered because of him.

"Try bringing your thighs together?"

He told me to do it, but his hands were already lifting my legs and pressing them together over my chest as he spoke. From my balls, which bulged slightly between my pressed-together thighs, he slowly dragged his finger downward to my hole.

"You're so thin, but your ass and this part are surprisingly plump."

He added that with a sly smile and eyes narrowed as if glancing sideways — and the expression was even more obscene for it.

Kneeling, he shifted position and pulled his cock free from his briefs. Released from the cramped fabric, it sprang upright as if bouncing off the waistband. Pre-cum flowed from the swollen head, coating the entire darkened shaft. Beneath the shadow his body cast, the sheer presence of his slick, gleaming cock made me instinctively cover my mouth.

"I'm going to... rub against you here."

Holding my legs firmly so they couldn't spread apart at all, he pressed his cock — throbbing as if it were alive — deep between my closed thighs.

"Ah! Ngh… ugh…"

The sensation of his hot, pulsing, wet cock brushing the sensitive skin inside my thighs was peculiar. Even though it wasn't tearing through me like anal penetration, it felt as if it were parting flesh as it entered.

His cock, pressing in past my upended balls, met mine. His heavy scrotum bumped against my slightly lifted backside, and in the next moment the thick heat slipped back out from between my thighs only to plunge back in.

His cock, thoroughly slicked with pre-cum, slid effortlessly between my thighs. The friction sounds — resembling the sloshing of intercourse deep in a wet hole — permeated the room like the sound of rain on damp ground.

Because it wasn't enclosed by the delicate inner walls of my hole, he didn't adjust his speed. Each time he thrust down from above, pressing quickly, I had to bite my lip at the sensation of our two cocks rubbing directly against each other.

The recoil of his balls slapping against the area around my hole with each thrust was just as hard to bear. Thud, thud, thud, thud-thud... Even the sensation of that resilient weight hitting my tailbone alone made the image of his scrotum — swinging forward only to get crushed and flattened between him and me — vivid in my mind.

Only the point of entry differed; his weight pressing down from above, the resulting sway, the tingling in my lower abdomen, the cramping in my fingertips and toes... all of it felt much the same as when he was penetrating me. If anything, the thickness, heat, and slick texture of his cock grazing my skin felt more pronounced here between my thighs.

The pre-cum flowing down his shaft dripped onto my own cock and pubic hair, and further back, over my balls and groin, all the way down to the outside of my entrance. My body was so sensitive I could feel the exact path the fluid took across my skin.

He was already driving me to the verge of climax — and this was only between my thighs, not even inside me, not even my hole.

Gasping as if I couldn't catch my breath, I reached out and grabbed his hands pressing down on my thighs from either side.

"Hah… ah… ngh…"

My wet, pleading gaze sought his eyes. I couldn't tell if I was begging him to stop or begging him to push me further; I simply left the judgment up to him.

Keeping his head angled down, he lifted only his eyes to look at me, a faint smile playing on his sweat-beaded face.

"What if I slip while doing this... and accidentally go in?"

He withdrew his cock slightly, tilting his head to look closely at my entrance.

"Oh... you're already so wet... this might be dangerous."

"…ah!"

My head snapped back at the sudden touch directed toward my entrance. I squeezed his hand tightly in mine, pressing the back of my head against the bare mattress.

His fingers pressing firmly around my entrance were devoid of any sexual nuance, as if he were only assessing the situation. For reasons I couldn't explain, that very fact made my shame burn hotter. It wasn't the shame of wanting to bolt — of being the only one sexually invested in this moment.

Because I knew there was no way he wasn't aroused as he touched my wet entrance.

He was deliberately upsetting the balance of arousal between us — pretending to be unaffected by my moaning and lip-biting, maximizing the tension.

He smeared his hand, heavy with fluid, broadly across my entrance, frowning slightly. Then he tugged my hand, which was gripping his, downward.

"Look at this. It's completely soaked, isn't it? Look at how much you've leaked..."

He made me smear the fluid onto my own skin around my entrance, fixing his excited gaze downward.

"Th-that's because you, Director...!"

I lifted my head, face flushed, and struggled to pull my hand away. The wetness was from his pre-cum, but he was talking as if it were my own slick — and the embarrassment of that made me desperate to stop him somehow.

His gaze locked onto mine. A gaze boiling over, beyond the ordinary. Whether I had let go of his hand or he had released mine, the moment my freed hand retreated, a single fingertip pushed inside me.

"Ugh...!"

I flinched, startled by the sudden entry, but it wasn't from pain. There was no resistance at my entrance.

Keeping one finger inside me, he pushed my knees outward from where I'd drawn them up toward my chest, then bent his upper body deeply to kiss me. Up close, his eyes held something like joy alongside a faint glint of madness.

"That's right. I got you this wet... You're leaking, soaking wet, because of me. It's because of me."

He slowly worked his finger in and out, looking alternately between my eyes. His gaze was both urgent — as if searching for something — and hazy, as if wandering in ecstasy.

Mingling with the strong cologne I'd noticed before, that scent was growing stronger. Like a fragrance that had soaked into his skin and under his nails from long use, rising now from his bare skin with his shirt off. I greedily flared my nostrils, pulling him by the neck to inhale it — that scent that felt more distant and faint than usual.

He turned his head and our lips met. I accepted the kiss — now with considerable skill — rubbing my tongue against the wet inner surface of his mouth.

Below, as his finger repeated its entry and retreat, more pre-cum flowed into my hole, and wet, slick sounds leaked from both above and below.

I had to finally confront the part of myself that wanted something deeper — a pressure and movement that felt like it would break me. The soft insertion of just one finger was no longer enough to destroy or transform me.

He kissed me deeply, swirling my tongue in circles and then sideways... when suddenly he narrowed his eyes and pulled back from my mouth.

"Do you know how much you've been clenching down there?"

I shook my head, gasping as if sobbing. It wasn't a denial to his "do you know?" — I simply wanted to refuse to admit it. That I was tightening my hole myself, demanding greater stimulation from him.

He lightly bumped his forehead against mine, tapping my lips with the index finger of his other hand — the one not inside me.

"You don't say a single word about what you want with this mouth."

"......"

A fleeting expression of mild dissatisfaction — as if hoping I would beg for something — crossed his face and vanished. When I came to him asking for help with this matter... it had felt like such a large request...

"Hah... ugh."

Before I could dwell on that thought, the finger that had traced the inside slid out.

"I'm going to spread your legs a little wider."

By the time he said that, my legs were already parting, and his cock was aimed at my entrance.

It was completely different from his finger. Just having the slick head pressed against my entrance made my breath catch from the heavy pressure. Unlike his finger, which had entered easily in one motion, his thick cock struggled to penetrate.

Before even half the head was swallowed, he pulled back and pushed in again, repeatedly, drawing as much of the glistening pre-cum around my entrance inside as possible.

"Ahh… hah…"

My lower body felt loose and twitching from the repeated in-and-out. I let out a sound like a sob and raised my arms to cover my eyes.

"Why cover them? Curious Seo Yeehyeon."

He gently took hold of my wrist and pulled my hand down, speaking in a soothing tone. A faint smile lingered on his face as I looked up, but below, his broad, swollen cock was writhing, pressing through my entrance.

"You don't have to wait until all of it is in... I'll make you feel good right away."

"......"

Unsure what he meant, my body trembled slightly with a mixture of fear and anticipation, and my entrance tightened involuntarily.

"Ngh — ah!"

Forcing its way through the contracting entrance, his cock pushed abruptly inside. I had only just swallowed the head, yet my lower body felt numb, as if more than half the act was already done. But it wasn't from tightness — it was from the size of him. My entrance was already thoroughly slicked.

Looking down at my dilated, trembling pupils, he gently wrapped his hand around my other wrist as well. Then he pulled taut toward the place where we were joined.

Thrusts rained down, the prominent head striking that sensitive spot deep inside me with precision.

"Ngh… ah… ah — ugh!"

It felt like lightning striking inside my head. Like lying naked in a field where lightning was hitting continuously. Rain was pouring down on my bare body. The sound outside seemed to grow louder, but that wasn't what mattered.

The sensation was different from when the shaft dragged over that spot after being pushed all the way in. This was raw, direct stimulation. It made that place inside me feel like a second sex organ hidden in my hole.

It gave me the illusion that his cock wasn’t fucking my hole at all, but something else inside it — that hidden spot, like another sexual organ buried deep in me.

His thrusts — shallow, not meant to drive deeper but to work that spot, pressing right against it and pulling back fast — felt like they were grinding my lower body to nothing.

Unlike the previous penetrations, which had built and crested in waves, this was different. Power surged instantly to the root of his cock and the tip of his head tingled.

"No — please stop... Stop!"

"That's not what this is... Be honest, quickly."

I struggled with all my strength to pull my arms free, but he used that very thrashing as leverage to drive into me even more persistently.

With my hips slightly elevated off the surface, he pressed my wrists down onto my own pelvis to hold me in place. Then, with unbelievable speed, he began striking that spot inside me and pulling back over and over, as if measured by a ruler.

Though hidden beneath his shirt, I could sense the rapid movement of his firm waist. The rise and fall of his flexible hips, tightening and releasing the muscles of his ass as he moved in and out of me.

Between the open buttons of his shirt, his broad chest and sharply defined abs glistened with sweat.

"Take... take your shirt off."

"......"

"I want to see everything."

My mouth was parched from the uncontrollable moans I could neither suppress nor swallow. The honesty I revealed to him — my voice cracking and breathless — was neither a plea for him to stop nor a demand to be let go. I wanted to see the obscene movement of his hips and ass as he drove pleasure into me.

His eyes looking down at me narrowed with satisfaction. Even as he released my wrists and shrugged his shirt over his shoulders, he didn't stop moving his hips.

"Hah… ah… ngh…"

Even after he let go of my wrists and I was free, I was still surrendering my body to him below. The feeling that I was so close — just a little, just a little more — was tormenting my lower abdomen with an itch that was becoming unbearable.

Perhaps because the sleeves, sweat-soaked and clinging to his skin, wouldn't slide off easily, he unrolled them carefully first. Then he roughly tossed the shirt, inside-out, onto the armchair beside the bed.

My greedy gaze was tracing the beautiful proportions of his body and the contours of muscles that felt both firm and flexibly resilient — plainly visible in my eyes, and I had no desire to hide it, nor the energy left to try.

He, too — upper body muscles swelling with tension as if on the verge of explosion, breathing hard — let his gaze roam over my naked form sprawled beneath him, connected still to his cock.

Then, in a sudden flicker, the weight of his gaze curved with playfulness.

"Now that I'm naked... do you like me?"

It wasn't that I didn't like how he looked with his shirt on...

"Ugh… ahh — ngh!"

Before I could even answer, the rapid thrusts scraping that sensitive spot inside me began again.

Because he wasn't driving all the way in, his hips weren't slamming against my entrance and there was no jolt of my body bouncing back. And yet — looking down, his hips were moving ceaselessly, working in and out of me.

Unlike me lying still, his movements alone stood out in sharp relief, carrying a different texture of excitement from the usual sense of unity when we moved as one. It was as vivid as if a camera had zoomed in for a close-up on his movements during sex and every bead of sweat forming on his skin, stimulating my vision intensely.

I watched him — his focused expression, furrowed brow, lips parted, hips bucking rapidly in that obscene rhythm, targeting that one spot relentlessly — and layered my own excitement on top of the pleasure of it being stroked deep inside me.

"Why are you watching so... intently? It's a little embarrassing."

A lie.

I didn't say that aloud, but perhaps he sensed my thoughts from the shift in my gaze, because he braced his fists on either side of my chest and bent his upper body forward, giving an awkward smile. He was feigning composure, but it was a smile that seemed somewhat anxious. He, too, was not free from the rising excitement.

"Ahh… ngh… ah…"

As he changed position, pressing deeper between my hips, my legs and ass lifted slightly off the surface beneath him. With his cock only halfway inside, he began to rotate his hips in a wide circle. The vivid sensation of my entrance stretching wide around his turning cock made me shake my head and grip his forearms.

When I managed to pry open my squeezed-shut eyelids, he was looking down at me with the concentrated expression of someone confronting a serious problem.

Slowly, the thick shaft dragged along my inner walls as it withdrew, and my eyes went wide.

"Ah — hh… ah…"

I felt his cock catch right at my entrance, and without thinking I shook my head "no" and gripped his arms tight.

"Ugh — ah!"

As he pulled his hips back further, his head — which had been precariously perched at the edge of my hole — snapped free and grazed his lower abdomen. The sensation of that slick, pre-cum-coated head flicking out and lifting the upper rim of my entrance made my toes curl inward. No — it made them stretch wide open. Whatever it was, a vibrating sensation coursed through me, demanding expression all the way out through my toes.

The same motion repeated several times. At a steady pace, neither rushing nor lingering. He would press halfway in, then pull back out. He teased the rim of my hole with his distinctly shaped head, flicking at it. Yet he never entered fully.

Having been pushed to the very threshold of climax a couple of times only to be pulled back, with the added stimulation tormenting my entrance where all the peripheral nerves gathered, I was now completely ready to be honest and abject.

Pressing my forehead and the bridge of my nose against his arm, solid as a pillar, I pleaded in a crawling voice.

"Please..."

My body, sensitized to the point of nearing climax, craved release in the way I wanted it. I could no longer reach it through the dry, mechanical self-pleasure I used before. I made no attempt to hide the quivering of my inner walls or the twitching of my entrance. On the contrary — I wanted him to notice and be aroused by it.

He pressed down slowly on my hips, lowering his upper body to kiss the bridge of my nose.

"What is it?"

His voice was deliberately low, as if someone might be eavesdropping on a secret. This time, with each tiny increment of his cock advancing inside me, I was completely desperate. I kicked my feet in the air.

The paths to pleasure he guided me along were so varied, and the techniques he used to conquer me seemed endless. Not all penetration was the same. How... are all Golden Alphas this good at sex?

"My stomach... it feels... strange..."

"How does it feel strange?"

The crease of his brow, jaw clenched tight, proved he too was restraining the urge to push harder — and yet today he possessed more patience than he had a few days ago.

As if he disliked, or perhaps feared, going deep inside me — he was only working from my entrance to that spot inside. He had never pushed all the way in.

"It itches... inside, my stomach itches..."

Without realizing it, I was actually scratching my lower abdomen. An itch from deep inside that scratching my skin couldn't relieve.

His breath, as he looked down at me, collapsed and grew rough, as if someone had torn everything apart inside him.

Not wanting to miss the moment his defenses crumbled, I turned my head and kissed the wrist of his arm braced next to my chest.

"Please... just... hard... all the way inside..."

Even if my appearance might have seemed like I was coaxing or flattering him to get the sex I wanted, I didn't care. He wasn't the type to be overcome with cheap triumph just from something like this. He was the only one who could reach my inner walls — the ones I couldn't reach myself — and relieve this maddening itch. If I could just reach that pleasure right now, I felt I could do even worse. Thinking about what I'd already whispered in his ear on this bed, this was nothing.

"How?"

I think I might have anticipated that brief question, delivered with eyes that gleamed down at me.

Breathing in short, ragged gasps like someone terrified, I moved the hand that had been scratching my lower abdomen down between my legs to feel where we were joined. His eyes burned frighteningly, as if he were fully prepared to swallow me whole the moment I gave the signal.

Staring directly into those eyes, I found the base of his cock — more than halfway withdrawn from my entrance — with my trembling hand. Then I pulled him back inside me.

His pupils, looking down, dilated and trembled as if facing something impossible. As his lips parted, a sound like an exclamation escaped.

Feeling it would be better to erase the distance between us, I wrapped my other arm around his neck and pulled him close. As our cheeks met, our ragged breaths dampened each other's ears.

"Harder... push this in more... fill me up inside... use your cock to rub me. Pound me like you're going to break me...!"

Once I opened my mouth the words came faster and faster, but his lips sealed mine. As if trying to swallow all my filthy words before I could speak them aloud, he ransacked my entire mouth.

"Mm — ! Ugh… mmph!"

He thrust the remaining half of his cock inside me in one go.

My moan — swallowing his tongue as it probed my mouth wide open without holding back — echoed dully as if in a cave.

The hand holding his base got caught between his pubic hair and my leg. As if unwilling to let go, he twisted his groin forcefully, pressing down even on my hand. The coarse brush of his pubic hair against the back of my hand made my hips arch involuntarily.

Before I could exhale the breath I'd been holding, his lips bit down hard.

"What exactly is this... supposed to be preventing?"

Muttering it like he was talking to himself, he bit my lips savagely — looking almost angry. His thrusts, lifting my hips into the air and pounding into me at full speed, were unhesitating, making his earlier restraint seem absurd.

But the eyes looking down at me seemed completely bewildered and afraid, like a boy experiencing sex for the first time. It was impossible — and yet that's how it looked.

"What... what should I do? Huh? What should I really do...?"

Sighing those words, he bit down on his own lower lip. The world blurred before my eyes as he drove into me, filling not just the space between my legs but my entire body, pounding relentlessly.

It feels strange. Like I'm going to die. Like all the thin knowledge I possess and every single memory — good and bad — is about to be wiped clean. Feeling wetness trace a line toward my temple, I appealed to him.

"Why are you scared of that? That's why I'm shaking my hips so hard right now."

I opened my eyes to his touch wiping away the traces of tears and looked up at him. He was right. This was what I wanted today.

"Erase everything, blow it all away. Huh? Let's just blow it all away."

His mumbled words, corrected from a command to a gentle request and whispered against my breath, scattered weakly. He said nothing more.

He pressed down on me using the full weight of his body as if to drive me into the mattress, and for a moment stopped moving his hips, plunging deep inside me.

"Ah — hh… ngh…"

Unable to even moan under the intensely addictive pressure of his swelling knot, I gasped with my mouth open as I spilled onto my stomach and chest. This was the climax I had desperately sought, yet the pleasure pulsing deep inside me — like a new heartbeat — overpowered the sensation felt through my cock.

He was throbbing inside me. Even without the friction of pulling back and thrusting forward, his knotted cock contracted and expanded on its own — like a heart just ripped free — pounding against my insides.

My whole body trembled from that intense heat, as if it were pushing my organs upward and choking my throat. It was a dangerous thought, but in that moment I could almost understand why some people liked having their necks held during climax.

The pressure of his kiss compounded the pressure rising from below. I was running out of air, but I clung to the scent he was pouring into me and didn't refuse the kiss.

This sex — where I was crushed and driven by overwhelming force — made me forget myself. It was sex that demanded I let everything about me be disassembled and exposed, and in turn accept everything exposed about him.

Everything was swept away, and in that void, everything that was him rushed in all at once. A strange sense of relief, born from the vague certainty that this sex meant the same thing to him, settled over me as I closed my eyes within his scent.