Page 61 of When Worlds Collide
Whatever expression he saw on my face as he looked up must have been some kind of comfort, as he raised his hand to trace my lips, memorising them with his fingertips. I watched his face go from uncertain, to something more determined, and an instant later he surged upward, pressing his mouth against mine. I exhaled as he inhaled and for just a moment, we breathed each other in. The relief I felt was like a soothing balm to my frayed nerves as I relaxed into him, moulded against him.
He trailed his other hand up to my throat, winding his fingers gently to cup my neck as his thumb rested ever-so-slightly in the dip of my clavicle. It was… unexpected, and I gasped, stealing the air from his lungs, even as I felt his grin against my lips.
“I need you,” he murmured, stroking his other thumb across my cheekbone.
It wasn’t okay. What he’d said, the way he’d reacted. None of that was okay. We were frayed slightly at the edges, but as I looked at his face, at the raw intensity in his eyes, I realised that sometimes, it was okay to come back together whatever way you could, and figure the rest out later.
His words were kindling to banked embers, and I responded by grabbing the hem of his hoodie, and yanking it up.
He tore his lips from mine with a barely-suppressed growl, ripping the hoodie over his head and tossing it off to the side. The t-shirt he wore underneath followed swiftly.
Bare from the waist up, he leaned back in to reclaim my mouth, but I halted him with a hand against his shoulder. He froze instantly, cocking his head to the side.
I grinned. “Just looking.” I sounded breathless, but I made no apology as I let my eyes trail lazily down his chest.
I was panting by the time I raised my eyes back up to meet his. Any traces of apprehension, of sorrow, of uncertainty had been wiped from his face like they’d never been there. There was a darkness to his eyes, yes, but it was the kind of darkness that made the muscles in my lower abdomen clench in anticipation.
“Satisfied, baby?”
I grinned. “Not yet.”
He chuckled. “Allow me to help you with that.”
Without warning, he grabbed my hips and pulled me forward until my butt was on the very edge of the sofa. He curled his fingers around my shorts and pulled, peeling them down my legswhile I swallowed my yelp of surprise. He threw my shorts into the same pile as his clothes before turning back and pushing his body forward, forcing my legs to part around him.
“No panties, jagiya?” He chided, making a tsking sound, even as he smirked at me.
I huffed, feigning indigence. “I was distracted this morning.”
For just a moment, the look in his eyes flickered, but then it was gone.
“Allow me to make up for that.” He ran a palm up my calf to my knee, before swiftly grabbing it and hooking it onto his shoulder.
I gasped, feeling the blush heating my cheeks from a curious mix of embarrassment and arousal. Jihoon held my gaze with an intensity that made my heart pound. He trailed his fingers softy up my thighs.
“I belong to you, cheonsa.”
“Yes,” I gasped.
“And you belong to me.” His fingers reached the place where I ached for him, and he lightly trailed them up the centre of me, eliciting a low moan as I instinctively tried to pull my legs together, but found myself unable to with his body there.
“Say it.” He trailed feather-light kisses up my calf, holding my gaze as I panted.
“I belong to you.”
“Good girl.” He pressed a finger inside of me, and my head fell back against the sofa cushions.
“Open your eyes, jagiya,” he said softly, working another finger inside of me even as his thumb stroked me further upwards. I did as he asked, watching his face as he watched mine.
Then, without warning, he bent forward, causing my foot to slip off his shoulder and settle on his back. His tongue pressedagainst me, and I bucked upwards, a shout falling from me, even as I raised a fist to my mouth to stifle it.
His hot breath gusted across where his tongue lapped, a contradictory sensation that had me reeling and for long moments, all I was capable of doing was lying there, panting, biting my fist as he drove me closer and closer to that edge.
My eyes inadvertently slid upwards, only to snag on the black screen of the silent TV, now acting as a mirror to the scene playing out in front of it, and I watched fascinated, as Jihoon knelt before me, head down. My other hand drifted down to tangle my fingers in his soft hair, urging him on without words.
Suddenly, he paused, pulling his mouth away to look at me. His eyes narrowed.
“Stop biting your hand, jagiya. I’m working hard. I want to hear you appreciate it.”
