Chapter 32: I Want You (R18)
Just as sleep began to pull me under, the soft creak of wood shattered the silence of my suite.
My eyes snapped open. Instinct flared before conscious thought. I sat up fast, heart slamming once against my ribs, every sense sharpening in the dim spill of moonlight through the tall windows.
Someone stepped out of my wardrobe.
For a split second the shadows made the figure look wrong, too still, too deliberate until the grin cut through the dark like a blade of pure mischief.
Yerin.
She stood there in the same grey hoodie and denim shorts she’d worn at the park, cap long gone, dark hair a little mussed, mask hanging loose around her neck. The grin on her face was wide, unrepentant, and completely at home in the middle of my bedroom at whatever ungodly hour this was.
"Yerin?" My voice came out half-whisper, half-disbelief. "What the hell are you—"
She didn’t answer with words. She crossed the space between us in three quiet steps, climbed onto the bed, and straddled my lap in one smooth motion. The mattress dipped. Warm thighs settled against my hips. Her hands found my shoulders for balance, then slid down until her palms rested lightly on my chest.
I reacted without thinking. My arms came up and wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer by pure reflex, the way you steady something precious that might tip. The scent of her, faint vanilla and the lingering clean smell of night air, filled the small space between us.
She leaned in until her forehead nearly touched mine. The grin softened into something quieter, more serious.
"We need to have a talk," she said, honey-sweet voice low enough that only I could hear it.
I swallowed. "Yeah. We do."
For a moment neither of us moved. The weight of everything that had happened, the kiss in the alley, the specter, the awakening that had shaken realms I still didn’t understand, hung between us like charged air before a storm. I could feel the rapid flutter of her pulse under my hands where they rested against her lower back.
Then the grin returned, smaller this time, edged with heat.
"We can do that later," she whispered. "For now... I want you inside me."
The words landed like a match tossed into dry grass. Heat raced down my spine. I pulled her closer still, until her chest pressed flush against mine and I could feel the soft give of her body through the layers of fabric. My voice came out rougher than I intended.
"Are you sure?"
Yerin’s answer was a passionate French kiss.
Her mouth opened against mine without hesitation. Soft lips, the faint taste of mint, the warm slide of her tongue seeking mine. I met her halfway, one hand rising to cup the back of her neck, the other tightening at her waist.
The kiss deepened fast, hungry, thorough, the kind that left no room for second thoughts. She made a small, breathy sound into my mouth that vibrated straight through me.
We stayed like that for long moments, kissing like the world outside the bedroom had ceased to exist. Hands began to wander. Mine traced the curve of her spine through the hoodie, then slipped lower, cupping the firm swell of her ass through the denim shorts.
Hers mapped my shoulders, the lines of my chest, the hard planes of my stomach under the soft fabric of my hoodie. When her fingers found the hem and slipped underneath, cool against my heated skin, I groaned quietly into the kiss.
She answered by rocking her hips once, slow and deliberate, grinding against the growing hardness trapped between us. The friction sent a sharp pulse of need through me.
I broke the kiss just long enough to trail my mouth along her jaw, down the elegant line of her throat. She tilted her head back with a soft sigh, giving me more access, and I took it, pressing open-mouthed kisses to the sensitive skin just above her collarbone while my hands slid higher under her hoodie, mapping the bare, warm skin of her waist and the delicate ridges of her ribs.
"Seth..." she breathed, half warning, half plea.
I pulled back enough to look at her. Her dark eyes were half-lidded, lips kiss-swollen, cheeks flushed a delicate pink even in the low light. Without a word I reached for the hem of her hoodie and began to lift it, slow and careful, giving her every chance to stop me.
She raised her arms instead, helping me draw the fabric up and over her head. The hoodie landed somewhere on the floor with a soft rustle.
What remained stole the air from my lungs.
Yerin sat astride me in nothing but a delicate white lace bra and the denim shorts. The bra was almost translucent in the moonlight, cups molding to the soft, full curves of her breasts, the lace pattern framing the shadowed valleys and the faint peek of darker areolas beneath.
Her skin was smooth, porcelain-pale, the elegant line of her collarbones and the gentle dip of her waist drawing my eyes like gravity. She was breathtaking, sexy in a way that felt almost unfair, all soft strength and quiet confidence.
I stared for a long heartbeat, drinking her in. "God, Yerin..."
A small, pleased smile curved her mouth. I leaned forward and buried my face between her breasts, nuzzling into the warm, fragrant valley.
The lace was soft against my cheeks. I breathed her in deeply, vanilla, clean skin, the faint salt of earlier excitement, and felt her fingers slide into my hair, cradling the back of my head as she inhaled my scent in return. Her nails scratched lightly over my scalp that made my eyes nearly roll back.
"You smell so good," she murmured against the top of my head.
I answered by pressing open-mouthed kisses to the upper curves of her breasts, tasting the lace and the warmer skin just above it. One hand came up to cup her through the bra, thumb stroking over a peaked nipple until she arched into the touch with a quiet gasp. The other hand slid down her stomach, fingers dipping beneath the waistband of her shorts and the thin edge of her panties until I found the already slick heat between her thighs.
She was so wet.
I pushed her gently backward onto the mattress. She went willingly, dark hair spreading across my pillows, legs parting as I settled between them.
I kissed a slow path down the center of her chest, lingering at the edge of the lace cups before continuing lower, over the soft plane of her stomach. When I reached the shorts I unbuttoned them with deliberate care, dragged the denim and the damp lace panties down her long legs, and tossed them aside.
She was bare for me now, beautiful and open, the neat triangle of dark hair already glistening. I settled between her thighs again, one hand rising to continue teasing her breasts—tugging the lace cups down so I could roll a stiff nipple between my fingers—while the other stroked lightly along her inner thighs, circling closer and closer without quite giving her what she wanted.
"Seth, please—"
I slid two fingers through her folds, coating them in her slickness, then pressed them slowly inside.
Yerin’s back arched off the bed. A soft, broken moan spilled from her lips. She was tight and hot and impossibly wet, walls fluttering around the intrusion. I curled my fingers experimentally, searching, and felt the moment I found the spot that made her thighs tremble.
[Want an upgrade?] Paige’s voice purred inside my head, amused and a little breathless herself. [I can make those fingers of yours flexible, size-controllable, perfectly angled for maximum... educational value.]
’Do it,’ I thought back, never slowing the slow, deep thrust of my fingers.
The change was subtle but immediate. My fingers lengthened just enough, became more pliant, able to curve and press and stroke with impossible precision.
I worked her steadily, thumb circling her clit in tight, teasing spirals while my other hand played with her breasts, pinching, rolling, soothing the sensitive peaks. Yerin’s breathing turned ragged. Her hips rolled to meet every thrust of my hand. Soft, high sounds escaped her with every press against that hidden spot.
"Right there—don’t stop—Seth—"
I didn’t. I kept the rhythm deliberate, relentless, fingers flexing and curling exactly where she needed them most while I leaned down and took one nipple into my mouth, sucking gently through the lace still half-covering it.
Her inner walls clenched hard around me. Her whole body went taut. A sharp cry tore from her throat as she came, thighs locking around my wrist, pleasure crashing through her in visible waves. I worked her through it, slowing only when the aftershocks began to fade, drawing out every last tremor until she was panting and soft and flushed all over.
I withdrew my fingers carefully, lifted them to my mouth, and tasted her. Sweet and musky and addictive. Yerin watched me do it with dark, glazed eyes, chest still rising and falling hard.
Then she moved.
She pushed me onto my back with surprising strength, straddled my thighs, and reached for the waistband of my sweatpants. In one smooth tug she dragged them and my boxers down far enough to free me. My cock sprang up, thick and already aching, the head flushed dark and glistening.
Yerin didn’t tease. She wrapped one elegant hand around the base, leaned down, and took me into her mouth in a long, wet slide.
Heat and wet silk. I groaned, head tipping back against the pillows, one hand finding its way into her hair. She hummed around me, the vibration traveling straight to the base of my spine, and began to move, slow, thorough, taking more of me with every pass until the head bumped the soft back of her throat.
Her tongue swirled along the underside. Her free hand stroked what her mouth couldn’t reach. She looked up at me through her lashes the entire time, dark eyes gleaming with pure, wicked satisfaction.
I was already close, far too close after watching her come apart on my fingers, but I forced myself to stay still and let her take what she wanted. The wet sounds of her mouth, the soft pull of her lips, the way her tongue flicked against the sensitive ridge beneath the head... it was almost too much.
She pulled off with a soft pop, lips shiny, and gave me a slow, deliberate lick from base to tip before speaking, voice husky.
"Still want that talk?"
I laughed, breathless, and tugged her up my body until she was draped over me again. "Later," I agreed, capturing her mouth in another deep kiss. "Definitely later."
Her hand found me again between our bodies, guiding me as she shifted her hips. The head of my cock nudged against her entrance, slick, hot, ready. She sank down in one slow, continuous motion, taking me to the hilt with a shared, shuddering groan.
For a moment we simply stayed like that, foreheads pressed together, breathing the same air, the overwhelming fullness and heat of her around me threatening to short-circuit every coherent thought. Then she began to move.