Page 33 of When Worlds Collide
“So forward.” He shook his head, as if he disapproved, his hair falling into his face, but a quick glance down told me ‘disapproval’ was not the leading emotion here.
I walked towards him until I was mere inches from him, tilting my head back to look him in those pretty, coffee-hued eyes, and then without a word, I reached up and began to unbutton his shirt. He watched me without moving as I yanked it out of his trousers, only pulling his hands out of his pockets when I pushed it off his shoulders, where it fell to the floor.
Silently, we regarded each other, the warmth from the hot water pouring into the bath heating the air between us, and a fine sheen settled on my now-warming skin.
“I think you can handle the rest yourself,” I said with a nonchalance I did not feel, and moved away to the sink, where there sat some cosmetics in a neat row. I looked up into the mirror to see Jihoon unabashedly staring at my behind for a brief moment before his eyes flicked up to meet the reflection of mine.
He prowled towards me, putting his big hands on my hips, holding me so possessively it teetered on the brink of being toohard. He pressed his body against mine, still holding my gaze in the mirror. I stared back at him, transfixed by the darkly sensuous look on his face as his fingers curled into the elastic of my underwear, pushing them down, inch by inch.
I inhaled sharply, my pulse fluttering. The things I think of doing to him when he looks at me like that…
“How long do you think it will take to fill a tub that big?” he asked, his tone almost conversational.
“That depends on how fast you want to get in,” I panted, not trying to disguise the spiralling desire I felt as his hot skin pressed against mine. My back arched as he pushed my underwear down my thighs, his fingers running down my skin in an almost bruising pursuit of fabric as it fell to the floor.
“I can be fast,” he murmured against my jaw, before nipping my throat, igniting in me a flush of warmth that coiled low in my belly.
A low, keening sort of moan escaped my parted lips as Jihoon traced one hand back up me, leisurely mapping the dips and contours of my body until his hand ran up my throat and gently cupped my jaw, turning my head slightly from where I had been looking at him over my shoulder to looking at him in our combined reflection.
“Watch.” A simple command. His voice rough with desire, coupled with the sound of his zip almost undid me, followed swiftly by the sound of foil ripping open. And when his warm palm firmly pushed on my lower back to angle me forward, leaning my arms against the cool counter-top, I thought I might expire. Keeping my eyes on the mirror showed not just our reflection, but also the reflection captured by the large mirror over the bath. It was like being in a hall of mirrors, the image went on for ever, and I was so distracted by this that I was almost surprised when I felt Jihoon line himself up with me.
Jihoon’s face was a mask of barely-there control, his concentration doing nothing to hide the need I saw there, and it drove me wild.
With two hands holding my hips steady, Jihoon drove into me, one smooth movement that would have pushed me into the counter, had he not been gripping me. A cry tore from my throat, echoing in the tiled room that was steadily filling with steam, and soon, the sounds of our combined voices were competing with the waterfall of the hot water pouring into the ever-filling bathtub behind us.
From behind me, Jihoon groaned, and I watched in the mirror as he watched me. He said something in Korean, but it was too fast, too guttural for me to even guess at, but hell if it wasn’t hot.
Oh fuck, I was so lost to the overwhelming sensation that I let my head droop, my body going almost limp in his bruising hands.
From all angles I watched, though Jihoon only ever looked at me. His gaze was so focused, so direct that in another world, another life, I might have felt shy. But not here, and not now.
The pace he set was a breath away from punishing, and it didn’t take long until my back bowed as the first waves of my orgasm crashed through, and over me, seizing my muscles, and just as he pushed me over the edge, he came with me until we were both slumped against the counter, panting.
He pressed a kiss to my heaving shoulders as he gently pulled out of me. He made sure to keep one arm around my waist, which I was grateful for as I felt I might have crumpled without it.
He pulled me upright so my back pressed to his chest. With no hint of embarrassment, I met his eyes in the mirror. He had one hand pressed against my abdomen, splayed in a proprietary manner.
“So fucking beautiful,” he panted slightly against my ear before pressing a kiss to where my pulse still thundered.
I grinned lazily. “How’s that bath coming along?” I asked over my shoulder.
Jihoon smirked and pulled away, but not before delivering a playful slap to my backside. I squealed in surprise, only making him laugh as he reached over the bath to twist the taps off.
“Perfect,” he said, holding out a hand to me. Unhesitatingly, I slid my hand into his and let him help me into the bath. The water was on the verge of too hot, but as I settled down, the heat seemed to seep into my bones, immediately relaxing me. Jihoon stepped into the tub behind me and carefully eased himself down. The water sloshed over the sides a bit until it settled, and I leaned back against his chest as his arms banded around me, and for a while, we were silent, just being with each other.
I wondered if I’d ever get used to it.
Chapter 12
“Good morning from the future!” I chirped as Becka’s face filled my screen.
“Babes, that was funny the first couple of times. Now it’s just a bit sad.” Becka rolled her eyes at me.
“Yowch, what crawled up your butt today?” I leaned back against the plump sofa cushions, pulling my leg up so I could rest my phone on my knee and hold my coffee in my other hand. I watched as Becka similarly slumped back against the sofa in our – her – apartment, and a twinge of homesickness speared through me.
“Honestly, this whole week has been such a shit-show,” she sighed, wiping a hand down her face, not bothering to be careful of her makeup.
“Wanna talk about it?” I tried to be sympathetic. Becka did not do well in isolation. She needed people to vent to, and as I’d moved across the world, I felt guilty I couldn’t be there for her.
