Page 83 of When Worlds Collide
Without warning, Jihoon’s hands cradled my face, pulling my lips to his in a frantic, needy kiss that stole the breath from my lungs. I clung to him with equal force, curling my fingers into the front of his hoodie, pulling him towards me as close as he could get, and it still wasn’t close enough. As if sensing my frustration, he moved his hands to my waist and helped to pull me up until I could swing my legs on either side of his, my knees squeezed against the sides of the generously-sized leather chair. It squeaked slightly as I pressed back into Jihoon, cupping his face in my hands as I traced his lips with my tongue. He groaned into my mouth as his hands trailed down my body until he was cupping my ass.
I tore my mouth from his, scanning his face and seeing the same desperate need there that I felt. I didn’t hesitate as I pulled my jacket off, throwing it on the ground in utter disregard, and then helping him to pull off his hoodie, tossing it to join my jacket. His fingers trembled as he worked the buttons on my shirt, until finally he ripped the last couple as he tore my shirt open. My chest heaved as he pushed the scraps of fabric off my shoulders. He roughly cupped my breasts, and I gasped. My back arched, pressing my breasts more firmly into his palms, and when his hot mouth trailed over the exposed skin, my head fell to the side, lost to the sensations. Through narrowed eyes, I dimly took notice of the thick padding on the door and walls, andnoted with some satisfaction that ENT clearly valued the privacy of its artists.
“Why are you smiling?” He trailed his tongue up my throat before he gently wrapped a hand around it, eliciting a sharp exhale as a thrill shot through me.
“Soundproofing,” I panted, and he grinned.
“No one can hear how I will make you scream,” he promised. I loved it when his accent became more pronounced. The reaction my body had to it was enough to make me moan, a precursor to those promised screams.
I noted with displeasure that he was still wearing a shirt, and I wasted no time in tugging it off until I could run my hands down his chest, his skin so hot against my fingertips. The ridges of the hard muscles twitched under my explorations.
“Baby…” he groaned, and I fucking loved it when he said it in English, the way his tongue moved around the sounds did things to me.
My fingers continued their northern travels until I reached the buttons of his jeans. Holding his gaze and seeing the desire in his eyes, I popped the button, and then pulled the zipper down. He had to adjust himself before I could get it all the way down, and he lifted me just enough to help me straddle him properly, angling his hips beneath mine. I pulled him out and held him gently in my hands, the skin so soft. It always surprised me.
He closed his eyes as his head fell against the headrest and I grinned. I loved that I could make him feel like this.
I moved my hand slowly, delighting in the small sounds he made, the gasps, the desperate keening noises, until he grabbed my hand in his, tightening my grip and moving it. I smirked, watching him, watching me.
Then I felt his other hand trail down my abdomen until he skimmed the waistband of my trousers.
“Off.” He demanded, his tone brooking no conversation, and hurriedly I rose to my feet, slightly unsteady. I kicked off my shoes, and pushed the black trousers down my legs, kicking them away to join the pile of clothes there already. I took my time with my underwear, enjoying the way his dark eyes followed my every movement. I wiggled as I eased them down my legs, and I grinned as his tongue darted out to moisten his lips.
I took a step back towards him, watching as his hand moved up and down slowly. I could almost feel him inside me as I fixated on the slow drag of his hand, my body so attuned to his, so used to how he felt. I swallowed hard, even as I felt my body tightening in anticipation.
I lifted one leg, putting my foot on the outside of his thigh, and I saw his eyes linger on the centre of me, before slowly rising up my body. He leaned forward slowly, as if gauging my reaction, and I kept watching as he lifted his free hand. He touched me, softly at first, and then more firmly, always watching me. As he slid a finger inside of me, I finally slid my eyes closed and rolled my head back, shoulders heaving with my panted breaths.
“So wet,” he murmured, brushing his thumb higher up, shooting sparks through me that made my knees tremble. He pushed in a second finger, moving them in and out in a rhythm that matched the one he was using on himself until I felt myself building to a point I wasn’t ready for yet.
“Joon,” I whined, panting around his name. I grabbed his wrist, gently removing his fingers and taking my foot off the chair. Jihoon slid forward, angling his body as I kneeled on either side of him. I settled, winding my arms around his neck as he put his hands on my hips. I leaned forward to kiss him softly as I raised up slightly, feeling him move a hand off my hip. Then I felt him nudging at my entrance. I gasped into his mouth as I slid down onto him, slowly. He groaned, leaning his foreheadagainst me as I pulled my mouth away. His jaw clenched as I slid down the last few inches, the angle of the chair making this a wholly different experience, to say nothing of the fact of just where we were right now.
“Ky,” he ground out, his fingers tightening on me reflexively. “Oh, fuck.”
I began to move, slowly at first and then increasing in tempo. We began to pant in sync, our breaths matching up with our frantic movements, until I began to falter, not able to keep up with the speed I’d set. Jihoon moved his hands to help, until I just leaned forward, slumped onto his chest and lost to the ecstasy. I let him take over, thrusting into me until I was a gibbering mess of incoherent moans and streams of words.
There was nothing tender to this. It was a needful clash of bodies, and it wasn’t long until I felt myself building to that crescendo that would tip me over the edge.
Jihoon made good on that promise he’d made. I did scream.
Afterwards, I lay curled up in Jihoon’s arms, skin damp and a grin from ear-to-ear.
He looked down at me, something soft and quiet in his expression. It made me think of the man he was here, with me, and who he was outside that door. In this building, and in the world. He may belong to the world in a way I’d never understand, but here and right now, he was mine.
I pressed a kiss to his slightly damp chest. “Do you think that’s the first time anyone’s ever done that in a studio here?”
Jihoon chuckled, his chest vibrating against my cheek as I lay over him like a limp noodle.
“Probably not even the first time today.”
I lifted my head to look at him. “Be so for real right now.”
He held up his hand. “I swear.”
“Wow, singers are horny.”
He ran his hands soothingly up and down my back, sending delicious little tingles all through my overly-sensitised skin.
“Who says they’re all singers?”
