𝓱𝓮𝓮𝓼𝓷𝓰𝓲𝓻𝓵

You moan loudly as his fingers glide through your slick folds, spreading your wetness messily. Heeseung’s middle and ring fingers are so fucking thick, the calloused pads rubbing perfect circles over your swollen clit before he sinks them inside you without warning. The stretch is immediate and delicious, your walls fluttering greedily around the intrusion.

“Fuck, so wet already,” he growls, pumping his fingers deeper, curling them hard against that spongy spot inside you that makes your knees buckle. “Look at you, creaming on just two fingers. You love how big they are, don’t you baby?”

You nod frantically, eyes rolling back as he starts a brutal rhythm with long, deep strokes that drag along every sensitive inch of your pussy. The obscene wet squelching sounds fill the hallway with every thrust. His palm grinds against your clit while his fingers scissor and curl, stretching you open.

But Heeseung wants more. His other hand tightens around your throat, not choking, but firm enough to hold you in place. “Eyes on me,” he commands, voice low and dangerous. You force your gaze up to meet his dark, hungry eyes, pupils blown wide with lust. The eye contact makes everything more intense, your pussy clenches hard around his fingers as he fucks you faster.

He leans in, kissing you sloppily, tongue invading your mouth before he pulls back and spits directly onto your tongue. “Swallow,” he orders. You do, whimpering pathetically as his fingers never stop their assault. Another orgasm builds fast, coiling tight in your belly. Heeseung feels it, smirks, and doubles down, three fingers now, stretching you wider, his thumb pressing firm circles on your clit. “That’s it, now cum for me. Soak my fucking hand, baby.”

You shatter with a broken cry, walls pulsing violently around his thick fingers as your first orgasm rips through you. Hot squirt gushes out, splashing over his wrist and dripping down your thighs. Your legs shake, but he doesn’t stop. He keeps thrusting through it, drawing it out until you’re sobbing with overstimulation.

“Good girl,” he praises, licking a stripe up your cheek, tasting the sweat and tears there. “But I’m not done with you. Not even close.”

Hee drops his head to your chest, freeing his hand around your neck for a second, just to shoving your top down with. His mouth latches onto one nipple, sucking hard while his tongue flicks the sensitive bud. He bites down gently, then soothes it with slow licks as his fingers continue destroying your cunt; relentless, wet, filthy thrusts that make your next orgasm crash over you almost immediately. You squirt again, harder this time, the liquid spraying messily against his palm and soaking the floor. Your vision whites out, pleasure bordering on pain from the overstimulation, but Heeseung just growls against your tit and keeps going.

“Fuck, look at that mess. My needy little girl can’t stop cumming on my fingers.” His hand around your throat squeezes a little tighter this time, forcing your eyes back to his. “Again. Cum again for me.”

You shake your head weakly, overstimulated and drunk on the feeling of those long, thick fingers bullying your g-spot over and over. “T-too much! Heeseung…”

But he doesn’t relent. He keeps using three fingers, stretching you to the limit, curling them perfectly while his palm slaps wetly against your clit. His mouth moves to your other nipple, sucking and biting, leaving red marks on your soft tits as he licks and kisses every inch of skin he can reach.

Another orgasm tears through you, even stronger. You scream his name, squirting all over his hand and forearm, your juices running down your legs in rivulets. Your body convulses against the wall, but Heeseung holds you up with his body and that iron grip on your throat, eyes locked on yours the entire time.

He kisses you again, deep and messy, then spits on your tongue once more before licking a slow, possessive stripe from your jaw to your ear. “Such a good fucking girl. My perfect babygirl. We’re not stopping until you can’t even stand.”

His fingers never slow. Thick, long, relentless. Pumping. Curling. Making you gush and cry and beg while he praises you in that low, filthy voice and worships your body with his mouth. You’re completely pleasure-drunk, lost in the endless cycle of his hands, his mouth, and his dark, loving eyes that refuse to let you look away. And Heeseung? He’s only getting started.

Seizing the moment when the banker was distracted greeting another guest, Heeseung slipped his left hand into the pocket of his vest. His fingers found the cold, engraved surface of his pocket watch, a solid gold family heirloom. He flicked the lid open with a soft click of his thumb. Midnight had already passed.

It was time.

Without breaking composure, he waited for the precise second to excuse himself with a quiet murmur about a persistent headache caused by the tobacco smoke. He moved with the agility of a shadow through the sea of silks, satins, and genuine pearl necklaces, dodging the watchful gazes of the matrons patrolling the room. No one questioned the movements of a Lee; his respectability was an indisputable fact. He crossed the marble foyer and stepped out onto the main staircase, where the icy Manhattan night air struck his face, clearing the lethargy of the event.

“The Packard.” he ordered the valet in a voice stripped of the political warmth he had used all evening.

The employee nodded promptly, intimidated by the cold authority radiating from the young man. A few minutes later, the imposing black automobile stopped at the curb, its engine purring softly like a tame but dangerous beast. Heeseung slid into the driver’s seat, dismissed the valet with a silver coin, and before the door had fully closed, pressed his foot down on the accelerator.

As the Waldorf faded behind him and the lights of the skyscrapers dissolved into the darker streets of lower Manhattan, Heeseung’s perfect facade began to crumble. With one hand on the wheel, he used the other to open the glove compartment. The latch gave way, and nestled among the vehicle’s documents gleamed the deep blue of a small velvet box. His hand lingered for a second over it, caressing the texture of the case that had hidden the sapphires for days. A genuine smile, tense with anticipation yet filled with an almost violent devotion, curved his lips. He slammed the compartment shut.

Every turn of the wheel took him further from the hypocrisy of his world and closer to you. In recent months, that drive had become his only moment of true clarity. He thought about your bold haircut, the way you defied gravity on stage, and the warmth of your skin. He drove fast, bordering on reckless, devouring the streets still wet from the recent drizzle.

Finally, the car slipped into the back alley behind the “speakeasy”. It was a narrow passage that reeked of dampness and cheap illegal gin, a stark contrast to the opulence he had just left. Yet for him, that cracked pavement was a sanctuary. The alley was the only silent witness to his escapes, the only place where he could worship you without the gossip columns tearing your name apart. It infuriated him that he had to hide. If it were up to him, he would take you by the hand and drag you into the center of the Waldorf, forcing that stale dynasty to bow before you. Because you were worth more than any of those insipid heiresses; you were worth every risk, every lie, and every reputation he put on the line, even if you were the first to doubt it and demand secrecy.

He turned off the engine but left the headlights on, casting sharp silhouettes across the rain-soaked alley. He stepped out of the Packard and pushed open the heavy wooden back door of the club, bypassing the guard who already knew his face, and especially the thickness of his tips.

As soon as he crossed the threshold, the wall of sound hit him instantly. The raw, hot notes of jazz floated through the air thick with cigarette smoke. The place was packed. There were businessmen who had loosened their ties, local gangsters in pinstripe suits, and sailors looking to forget the docks. Most were already showing the effects of bootleg alcohol, with glassy eyes and overly loud laughter. Heeseung stood out immediately. Even in this underground dive, the fall of his coat, the refinement of his features, and the rigidity of his posture made it clear that although classes mixed here, there were still levels. He belonged at the very top.

He scanned the crowd with thinly veiled disdain. To these men, the women dancing on stage or serving drinks were mere merchandise, a pretty flesh to satisfy carnal desires in a dark corner and forget by dawn. They felt entitled to possess them with their eyes.

Heeseung clenched his jaw as he crossed the room toward the dressing area. He wasn’t there for a fleeting whim. What he felt for you went far beyond the physical; it was absolute possession, a fire that consumed his chest and threatened to explode if he didn’t claim you right away.

The hallway leading to the dressing rooms was a narrow labyrinth, thick with the smell of sweat, talcum powder, hair spray, and the sickly-sweet residue of cheap perfume. Heeseung walked with firm steps, ignoring the bustle around him; the constant coming and going of flappers adjusting their stockings, laughing shrilly, or passing around flasks of bootleg liquor.

Halfway down the corridor, one of them stepped into his path. She was a woman with endless legs and generous curves, wrapped in a silk fringed dress that left very little to the imagination. She leaned against the wall with languid familiarity, exhaling a thick cloud of cigarette smoke before fixing her kohl-lined eyes on him. Her gaze swept over Heeseung’s tailcoat, instantly recognizing the impeccable cut that only Fifth Avenue money could buy.

“Well, well… looks like we have a genuine high-society gentleman around here,” she purred, taking a step forward that dangerously closed the distance between them. “You look a little tense, handsome. All that formalwear must be exhausting. If you’re looking for some entertainment to forget about business and have a good time… I know exactly how to make you relax.”

Heeseung looked down at her from his height with an icy stare that would have made anyone retreat. Inside, a biting curse crossed his mind; he was disgusted that they breathed the same air as you, disgusted that they assumed he was like the rest of the pigs who paid for company. When the woman, emboldened by her own audacity, reached out to touch the lapel of his jacket. He shifted back an inch, and before her fingers could touch the fabric, he gripped her wrist with iron strength. He didn’t hurt her, but the hold was firm enough to stop her cold.

“I’m not interested,” he stated, his voice so sharp it seemed to freeze the hallway. “Out there at the tables there are dozens of men with pockets full of cash, more than willing to use you in the way you seem so eager for. Go find them.”

Without waiting for a reply, he pushed her aside with a brusque motion and continued on his way, leaving the woman stunned, her pride barely intact thanks to the young man’s haste.

Heeseung didn’t stop until he reached the door he knew by heart. Without bothering to knock, he turned the handle and pushed it open. The collective dressing room was a chaos of feathers, mirrors lit by bare bulbs, and delicate lingerie. His intrusion drew a chorus of muffled gasps and surprised squeaks from the dancers, who were in various states of undress and preparation for the next number.

None of them mattered to him. His gaze swept across the room like radar until it found you at the back, sitting in front of the vanity, putting the finishing touches on your lipstick. When his reflection appeared in the mirror, your eyes widened with a mix of surprise and panic. Acting on pure instinct before the others could start whispering, you stood up, strode toward him, grabbed his hand, and dragged him out of the dressing room, slamming the door shut behind you.

The moment the latch clicked and you were alone in the dim hallway, Heeseung didn’t give you time to breathe. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you against his chest with an almost painful urgency, clinging to you as if you were the only real thing after hours of enduring the Waldorf’s falsehood. His face buried itself in the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent.

“How can you be so reckless?” you whispered against his shoulder, trying to keep your voice low while your hands rested on his chest. “You keep coming here like it’s nothing, without worrying that someone might recognize you. You don’t even try to hide who you are.”

Heeseung pulled back just enough to look at you. An adoring smile, completely unlike the stiffness he had shown minutes earlier, lit up his features. His dark eyes shone with absolute devotion.

“The last thing I care about in this life is what the city’s gossipmongers can invent about me,” he replied, his tone soft but unyielding. “I thought you already knew that by now, my love.”

Then, closing the distance even further, he took your gloved hand and slowly brought it to his lips. He pressed a reverent kiss to your knuckles, holding your gaze through his lashes without breaking eye contact for even a second.

“You have no idea how agonizing it’s been waiting for you all night. I’ve been desperate to see you since the moment I woke up.”

You smiled with a mix of resignation and tenderness. It was impossible to keep up any pretense of anger with a man who looked at you like you were a goddess, someone who seemed willing to kiss the very ground you walked on.

“I missed you too,” you admitted with a sigh, softening your posture, “But understand me… The last thing I want is for your reputation to be tarnished because of me. Your family, your name…”

Heeseung let out a heavy sigh and closed the distance in one swift motion. He pushed you gently but possessively against the wall. His right hand immediately rose to your face, cupping your cheek with his long fingers, forcing you to look at him as he captured your lips in a deep kiss. It was a hungry kiss, filled with all the tension he had held back throughout the week, a silent claim that left you breathless. Your tongues met in a slow, possessive rhythm that made your knees weaken.

When you finally pulled apart, gasping for air, you looked at him in astonishment, cheeks flushed and pulse racing. Heeseung leaned in to place a tender kiss on your forehead, resting his own forehead against yours as he spoke to you in a low, husky, intimate voice.

“Listen to me carefully. There isn’t a single risk in this world I wouldn’t take for you. I’d leave everything behind if that was the price to be with you openly, in the light of day. My name means nothing if you’re not part of it.”

A soft, melodic laugh escaped your lips at his drama. You gave his arm a playful pat, looking at him with a spark of amusement in your eyes.

“It seems your feelings are clouding your judgment, darling,” you said teasingly, shaking your head. “Those definitely didn’t sound like the words of the smart, calculating man you’re supposed to be. There’s no doubt that love is a real danger… an absolute threat to coherence and logic.”

Heeseung let out a low chuckle, a vibrant sound that was muffled against your neck before he pulled back to look at you again. His fingers slowly traced the contour of your cheek, capturing the warmth of your skin.

“I have no way to refute that,” he admitted, his eyes shining in a way he would never show in the salons of Fifth Avenue. “I’m fully aware of my own recklessness and my complete lack of reason right now. But you have to admit it’s entirely your fault; you’ve got me completely foolish.”

Your laughter rang out clear and light in the hallway, untouched by the peeling walls or the clamor of the club. It was a sound so full of life that Heeseung felt a violent flip in his chest. His heart raced in an almost painful way, confirming what he already knew: there was no room for regret. In all of New York, in the entire world, there wasn’t a single woman capable of making him feel so ridiculously alive.

“You’ve definitely lost your mind, Lee,” you said, crossing your arms with perfectly feigned indignation. You lifted your chin, looking up at him with a haughty, arrogant expression that only dazzled him more. “Though, if we’re being honest, you were already a bit of a fool the first time we met.”

Heeseung shook his head, amused, adoring that sharp, daring spark that made you unique.

“Enough talking, my lady” he declared without warning. Before you could protest, he lifted you off the ground. Your feet left the floor and you had to cling to his shoulders as he settled you in his arms with astonishing ease. He wasn’t willing to leave you in that place a second longer, not now that he finally had you all to himself.

He crossed the hallway and the main room with firm steps, completely ignoring the sideways glances and obscene comments a couple of drunk men threw his way. Heeseung clenched his teeth, barely holding back the curses burning in his throat. The mere idea that those men dared to look at you turned his stomach, but his priority was getting you out of there.

He pushed open the back door and the cold night air greeted them in the alley. The cracked pavement glistened under the drizzle, reflecting the imposing silhouette of the Packard. With care, as if carrying the most valuable piece of contraband, he opened the rear door of the car and gently placed you on the leather seat before climbing in beside you and closing the door with a solid thud, shutting out the noise of the outside world.

As soon as he settled next to you, the urgency in his gaze shifted into an almost boyish anticipation.

“There’s something I’ve been keeping for you. And I can’t wait another minute to give it to you.” he said, his voice dropping a little lower. He reached over the back of the seat toward the front of the car. His long fingers quickly opened the glove compartment and returned holding the small velvet box. He offered it to you, holding your gaze. “I saw it and thought of you immediately. There was no way to avoid it.”

You stared at him wide-eyed before accepting the expensive case. When you opened it, the sparkle under the glove compartment light stole your breath. It wasn’t costume jewelry or a cheap imitation like the chorus girls usually wore. It was a wide choker necklace, a genuinely choker with perfectly aligned pearls set around a central diamond that caught the faint light of the alley with blinding purity.

Surprise was written all over your face.

“You’re getting more and more drastic with your gifts and the way you spoil me, Heeseung.” you whispered, running your fingertips over the gems.

Heeseung didn’t answer with words. He took the necklace from your hands and motioned for you to turn slightly. His fingers, warm despite the night, gently brushed aside the strands of your bob haircut to wrap the pearls around your neck. Before fastening the clasp, he leaned in to leave a slow kiss on your collarbone, followed by another, longer and firmer, on the side of your neck.

“Nothing is too drastic when it comes to you,” he rasped against your skin, his breath sending a shiver down your spine. “You deserve the best in the world, and I’m showing you that I can give it to you without reservations, without complications.”

He secured the clasp and let his hands slide down to your shoulders, turning you to face him once more. The diamond sparkled right at the base of your throat, looking obscenely beautiful against your skin.

“If you finally decided to ignore the prejudices and the fear of what others might say… there would be many more improvements in your life. Improvements I would lay at your feet the moment you asked for them.”

“Heeseung…” you whispered his name, fully aware of the social storm it would cause for the Lee heir to appear hand in hand with a flapper from a speakeasy.

But you couldn’t finish the sentence. Just like before, Heeseung leaned in and kissed you to silence you.

But this time the kiss was different. There was no reverent tenderness from moments ago, nor the patient promise of a gentleman. It was a complete shift, an immediate, heavy wave of possession that sought to erase any trace of doubt from your mind and remind you exactly who you belonged to in the darkness of that car. His mouth claimed yours with an urgency that transformed the atmosphere into something thick, hot, and suffocating, marking the beginning of the night’s true rhythm.

And a moment later… the alley behind the speakeasy reeked of bootleg gin and rain-slicked pavement now. Inside the idling Packard, the world outside ceased to exist. Heeseung’s tuxedo jacket now lay discarded across the front seat, his tie hanging loose around his neck like a forgotten noose. You were already in his lap, knees sinking into the butter-soft leather, the jet-beaded fringe of your dress shoved up to your waist in an impatient rustle.

“God, I missed you, so badly” he growled against your lips, his voice rough from hours of barely contained hunger. His hands, still bearing the heavy family crest ring, slid down your body with blatant need. The beads clattered like spilled coins as he pushed the fabric higher, exposing the sheer silk stockings and the delicate satin garter belt he’d brought you from Paris a month ago. No knickers underneath, just your bare, already soaked cunt glistening in the faint glow of the dashboard.

His fingers parted your slick folds without preamble. You were drenched, hot, slippery arousal coating his knuckles instantly, strings of it clinging between his digits when he spread you wider. The swollen lips of your sex parted with a wet sound; your clit throbbed visibly under his thumb, engorged and dark. He dragged two fingers through your cream, then pushed them knuckle-deep inside you, curling hard against that spongy front wall until your inner muscles fluttered and sucked at him greedily.

You moaned, low and wrecked, the sound vibrating against the thick glass and steel cocoon of the car. “Heeseung… drive first. Someone might see…You might get in trouble for that…—”

“No.” He yanked his fingers free. Slick strands stretching and snapping, and fisted his cock through his open fly. He was brutally hard, veins standing thick under the flushed skin, the fat head already leaking a steady bead of precome that smeared across your inner thigh when he notched himself at your entrance.

One brutal upward snap of his hips and he sheathed himself to the root in a single, searing glide. The stretch was obscene, your walls yielding and then clamping down like a vise around his girth, every ridged inch forcing your cunt to open wider, to take him deeper. The sudden fullness punched the air from your lungs; you felt the blunt head lodge against your cervix, a dull, delicious ache blooming outward as your body struggled to accommodate him.

The car rocked violently once, twice, suspension groaning. Then it settled into the filthy, liquid rhythm of flesh slapping flesh. Each time he bottomed out, your arousal squelched loudly around his shaft, wet, sucking noises that echoed in the tight space, mingling with the creak of leather and your broken gasps.

His mouth latched onto the side of your throat, teeth scraping before he sucked hard enough to bruise. The skin bloomed hot and tender under his lips; you could feel the blood rushing to the surface, the faint copper-salt taste of your own skin when his tongue laved over the mark. “You feel that?” he panted, breathing against your pulse point. “That’s mine. Every goddamn inch of you is mine, and I’m tired of pretending you’re not.”

You rode him harder, hips rolling with the same sinuous snap you used on stage. Your inner walls dragged along his length on every lift, then sucked him back in on the drop, milking the thick ridge under the head. The friction was scalding, velvet heat squeezing him so tightly his breath hitched every time your cunt fluttered. Sweat gathered in the dip of your spine, also trickling between your breasts; the necklace he’d given you swung heavily, stones and pearls slapping against sweat-damp skin with every bounce.

He gripped your ass cheeks, fingers digging in until the flesh whitened then flushed red under his hold. Nails bit sharp half-moons into the plush meat.

“I bought you that necklace,” he rasped, voice fraying. One hand slid up to trace the heavy pearls, cool against fever-hot skin, while the other kept your hips pinned so he could grind the base of his cock against your clit on every deep thrust. “Diamonds and pearls, the exact ones you like the most. I want to see it sparkle in daylight, not just when I’m buried inside you in some back alley. Why the hell do you make me keep us a secret?”

You clenched deliberately around him, slow, rhythmic pulses that made his eyes roll back and his hips jerk erratically. Your cunt was so wet now that every withdrawal dragged a glistening coat of your arousal down his shaft, pooling at the base where his dark curls met your bare lips. The obscene slickness coated his balls, dripped onto the leather in fat, sticky drops.

“Because you’re Heeseung Lee,” you gasped, voice splintering on a moan as he punched particularly deep. “Society prince. Moral compass. One whisper of a flapper dripping on your cock and they’ll tear you apart.”

He snarled, flipped you in one brutal motion so your back hit the seat. One knee shoved your thigh high and wide; the other braced on the floorboard. The new angle let him sink impossibly deeper, cockhead kissing your cervix on every punishing stroke, the pressure so intense it bordered on pain and still made pleasure spike white-hot behind your eyes.

The car shook with the force of his thrusts. Your necklace clasp clicked rhythmically against the seatback; your stockings rasped against his trousers. Sweat dripped from his brow onto your collarbone, slid between your breasts in salty rivulets. His thumb found your clit, swollen, slippery, hypersensitive, and rubbed tight, merciless circles that made your thighs quake.

“I don’t give a damn, never did” he hissed, voice shredded. “Let them talk. Let them stare. I want to take you to the Waldorf on my arm. I want to fuck you in our own bed, not this goddamn car after playing the perfect gentleman all night.” His thumb pressed harder; your cunt spasmed violently around him, inner walls rippling, trying to pull him deeper. “I love you, damn it. I love you so much it’s eating me alive.”

The orgasm tore through you like bad gin set alight, sharp, consuming, unstoppable. Your walls clamped down in hard, rhythmic pulses, milking his cock so fiercely his rhythm broke. A gush of fresh slick flooded around him, soaking his shaft, his balls, the crease of your ass, the leather beneath. You cried out, nails scoring down his back through his open shirt as your whole pelvis fluttered and seized.

He followed on the next brutal thrust, burying himself balls-deep and coming with a guttural groan of your name. Hot, thick spurts painted your insides, until you felt overfull, the excess seeping out around his base in creamy rivulets that trickled down your skin. His cock twitched inside you with every aftershock, smearing his release deeper.

For a long moment the only sounds were your wrecked breathing, the wet squelch when he shifted slightly, and the distant wail of a saxophone from the club. Heeseung collapsed over you, still buried to the hilt, softening slowly inside your pulsing heat. His lips brushed your temple, tasting salt.

“Next time,” he whispered, voice gravel and ruin, “I’m not letting you leave this car until you say yes to being seen with me in the light.”

You smiled against his damp hair, fingers threading through the strands he’d spent hours slicking back for the party. “We’ll see, darling.”

But you both knew, he’d keep spoiling you with diamonds and more until the day you finally let the whole glittering world watch him ruin you in public the way he ruined you right now.

His tired eyes lit up the instant they met yours, the weariness melting away into pure affection. He dropped his bag with a thud, kicked off his shoes, and swept you up into his strong arms in one fluid motion. Your legs wrapped around his waist instinctively as he clung to you, burying his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent like it was his lifeline.

"Ah ~ My baby’s here" he murmured against your skin, voice husky with relief and love. His hands gripped your thighs firmly, holding you close.

You threaded your fingers through his tousled hair, pressing a tender kiss to his temple. "How was work today? You really look beat."

He pulled back just enough to gaze at you, his affectionate smile deepening as he nuzzled your nose with his. "Long and brutal, but seeing you makes it all disappear. How was your day at college, sweetheart?"

He carried you a few steps into the hallway, your bodies pressed together while you chatted about the classes that bored you, a group project that frustrated you, but mostly how you'd counted the minutes until he walked through the door. He listened intently, peppering in soft hums of sympathy and pride, his thumbs stroking soothing circles on your hips.

"I've been waiting for you, so we could shower together." you whispered finally, your lips brushing his ear. Heeseung's eyes darkened with desire, but his touch stayed loving. He didn't answer with words. Instead, he captured your mouth in a deep, needy kiss, his lips warm and insistent, tasting of the coffee that had fueled his endless day.

Clothes shed between fervent kisses, your hoodie pooling on the floor, his shirt unbuttoned with your eager fingers, his belt clinking as it hit the ground, and his pants going next. By the time you reached the bathroom, both of you stood naked, skin flushed with anticipation. Heeseung twisted the shower knob, steam rising as the water heated perfectly, then guided you under the hot spray with him.

The moment the water cascaded over your bodies, his mouth claimed yours again, slower now, deeper. Tongues tangled lazily as rivulets streamed down your skin. His large hands explored reverently, cupping your breasts, thumbs circling your nipples until they hardened into tight peaks, then sliding lower to grip your ass and pull you tight against his hardening cock.

Heeseung broke the kiss, his lips lingering hot and swollen against yours for a long moment before he began trailing downward. Water cascaded over both of you, slicking his dark hair and making his skin gleam as he pressed open-mouthed kisses along the curve of your neck, sucking hard enough at your fluttering pulse point to leave a mark. His teeth grazed the sensitive skin, sending sharp sparks of pleasure straight to your core.

He moved lower with deliberate hunger, mouth latching onto the swell of your breasts. His tongue swirled around one stiff nipple, then the other, before he sucked them deep into his mouth, one after the other—firm, wet pulls that had you arching into him. A deep, needy groan vibrated from his chest as his hands gripped your hips tighter, pinning you to the tiled wall.

He kissed his way down your abdomen, tongue dipping teasingly into your navel, then lower, tracing the crease of your hip with filthy reverence. By the time he dropped to his knees on the wet tile, water streaming down his face and shoulders, your pussy was already dripping, slick arousal coating your folds and inner thighs, the shower doing nothing to wash away how soaked you were for him.

His dark eyes lifted to yours, burning with raw lust and utter devotion. Strong hands gripped the backs of your thighs, lifting one leg over his broad shoulder and spreading you obscenely open. “Lean against the wall for me, sweetheart,” he murmured, voice thick and rough. “I need to taste all of you.”

You pressed your back to the cool tiles, breath shaky as he leaned in like a man starved. He started with slow, worshipful kisses all over your soaked pussy, pressing his lips to your swollen outer folds, sucking them gently into his mouth one by one, then the other, lapping up every drop of your wetness with a hungry moan. He was completely devoted, eyes half-lidded in bliss as he savored you.

Heeseung parted your slick lips with his thumbs, exposing your dripping center completely. His tongue dragged a long, heavy stripe from your entrance up to your throbbing clit, then back down. Without warning, he stiffened his tongue and pushed it inside you, thrusting deep, fucking you with it in slow, deliberate strokes while his nose rubbed against your clit. The wet, obscene sounds of his tongue plunging into your pussy mixed with the shower’s spray and your broken moans.

“Fuck… you’re so wet for me,” he groaned against your folds, the vibration making your walls clench around his tongue. He pulled back just enough to suck your swollen inner lips into his mouth, tugging and licking them thoroughly before sealing his lips around your clit and sucking with perfect pressure.

Only then did he bring his fingers into play, two thick digits circling your fluttering entrance, coating themselves in your slick before sliding deep inside you. He curled them instantly, stroking that spongy spot while his tongue flicked rapidly over your clit. He devoured you with single-minded obsession, sucking, licking, and fingering you like your pleasure was his only purpose.

Your juices coated his chin and fingers, dripping down his wrist as he worked you harder. He added a third finger, stretching you open while his mouth pulsed around your clit, sucking in rhythm with every thrust. Your thighs trembled violently, one leg hooked over his shoulder as you ground against his face.

“Oh my god ~ Heeseung” you whimpered, fingers yanking desperately at his soaked hair. He moaned loudly into your pussy, the sound filthy and encouraging, refusing to let up even as your walls started fluttering wildly. He kept his tongue working your clit and his fingers pumping deep and fast, curling on every pull until the pressure snapped. “I’m… fuck! I’m gonna cum!”

Hee growled against your core and doubled down, sucking your clit hard while his fingers drove into you relentlessly. Your orgasm crashed over you like a wave, thighs clamping around his head as you gushed on his tongue and fingers. He didn’t stop lapping and sucking you through every pulsing wave, drinking down every drop of your release with devoted hunger until you were shaking, oversensitive, and barely able to stand.

Only then did he soften his mouth, pressing gentle, loving kisses to your twitching pussy as the aftershocks rolled through you. He looked up at you with glistening lips and dark, satisfied eyes, like he could stay on his knees worshipping you for hours.

When he finally stood, his cock was fully hard, flushed and heavy, water dripping down the thick length. You didn’t hesitate. You dropped to your knees on the slick tile, gazing up at him with pure hunger and adoration. Heeseung’s hand gently brushed wet strands of hair from your face, thumb stroking your cheek.

“You don’t have to, baby…” he murmured, voice already rough.

“I want to,” you breathed, eyes locked on his. “I need to taste you too, and I want to spoil you a little after a hard day.”

You wrapped both hands around the thick base, feeling the scorching heat and how it throbbed powerfully in your grip. Leaning in, you started with pure devotion, pressing slow, open-mouthed kisses all along the underside, tracing every bulging vein with your lips. You licked broad, wet stripes from base to tip, savoring the velvety-taut skin stretched tight over steel. His cock twitched and jumped under your tongue as you worshipped every inch.

Heeseung groaned deeply, one hand resting lightly in your soaked hair. You swirled your tongue around the fat, leaking head, lapping up the salty precum like it was nectar, then suckled gently on the sensitive tip. Moaning softly around him, you finally parted your lips and sank down, taking him into the wet heat of your mouth. Your tongue pressed flat and firm against the underside, tracing that thick vein as you bobbed, coating him in spit until saliva dripped messily down his shaft and over your fingers.

You sucked him with utter devotion, hollowing your cheeks, nursing his cock like you couldn’t get enough. Wet, filthy sounds filled the shower as you worked him deeper, relaxing your throat to take more with every pass. Your hands stroked what you couldn’t swallow, twisting slickly around the base while you moaned continuously around his girth, the vibrations traveling straight through him.

“Fuck… baby,” he hissed, head falling back under the spray, abs flexing hard. “Your mouth feels so fucking good.”

You pulled off briefly just to drag your tongue slowly up the entire length again, tracing every ridge and vein with reverent care, then dipped lower to suck one of his heavy balls into your mouth, humming happily as you lavished it with attention before moving back to his throbbing cock. You took him even deeper this time, nose brushing his pelvis as you swallowed around the head, throat tightening rhythmically. Spit ran down your chin, mixing with the shower water, making everything slick and messy.

Your moans grew louder, needier, as you lost yourself in pleasing him, sucking harder, faster, eyes watering with how full he made you, but never stopping. You loved every second: the way his cock pulsed hot and heavy on your tongue, the salty taste of him, the broken sounds he made above you.

Heeseung’s thighs trembled, his grip tightening gently in your hair. “Baby~ I’m so close… if you keep sucking me like that I’m gonna cum down your throat.” You moaned loudly around his cock in eager response, doubling your efforts. You sucked him with pure, devoted hunger and wet, sloppy, and relentless, until his hips stuttered and he let out a deep, guttural groan.

Thick, hot ropes of cum pulsed across your tongue and straight down your throat. You swallowed greedily around him, milking every last drop with your hand and mouth, humming happily as you savored the taste of him. You kept sucking gently through his orgasm, prolonging it until he was shuddering and oversensitive.

Only then did you pull off with a soft, wet pop, lips shiny and swollen, a thin string of spit and cum still connecting you to his twitching cock. Heeseung immediately pulled you up, crashing his mouth against yours in a fierce, messy kiss. He tasted himself on your tongue and groaned into it, arms wrapping tightly around your waist like he couldn’t bear even an inch of space between your bodies. The kiss was deep, hungry, and filled with raw need.

After several long moments, he turned you around. Your palms and cheek pressed against the warm, wet tiles as Heeseung molded his chest to your back. One strong arm snaked around your waist, holding you securely. His other hand guided his still-hard cock to your entrance, rubbing the head through your slick folds. He pushed in slowly, inch by thick inch stretching your walls with a deep, delicious burn. Both of you moaned loudly as he bottomed out, his hips flush against your ass.

“God, you’re so tight,” he whispered against your ear, voice trembling with restraint. “So fucking warm and perfect around me.”

He stayed buried deep for a moment, just holding you, breathing against your neck as the hot water poured over your joined bodies. Then he started moving in slow, deep, rolling thrusts that dragged his cock against every sensitive spot inside you.

It wasn’t frantic. It was intimate, almost reverent. Heeseung fucked you like he was pouring all the stress of his day into the connection between your bodies. His arm around your waist kept you pressed tight against him while his free hand slid down to rub slow circles over your clit.

Every thrust was deep and deliberate, pulling almost all the way out before sliding back in to the hilt. The wet slap of skin on skin mixed with your soft moans and his low, gravelly groans.

“You feel so good, baby. You're taking me so well,” he murmured, lips brushing your shoulder. “My beautiful girl, I needed this so fucking bad.”

He angled his hips slightly, hitting that perfect spot inside you with every stroke. Your moans grew louder, echoing off the tiles. Heeseung’s pace stayed steady but gradually grew a little firmer, chasing both your pleasure and his own.

When your second orgasm hit, it was slower and deeper than the first, your walls fluttering and clenching rhythmically around his cock as pleasure flooded your body. Heeseung groaned at the feeling, thrusting through your release until his own climax overtook him. With a deep, broken moan of your name, he buried himself as deep as possible and came hard, pulsing inside you in thick, warm spurts. He kept rocking gently into you even as he came, drawing out every last second of pleasure.

For a long while afterward, neither of you moved. Heeseung stayed buried inside you, arms wrapped possessively around your waist, forehead resting against the back of your neck as the water slowly began to cool. He pressed soft, lingering kisses along your shoulder and the side of your throat.

“I love you,” he whispered, voice hoarse and sincere. “Coming home to you… this… it’s everything.” You smiled softly, still catching your breath, pressing back into his warm chest.