Seo Tae-joon’s hand glided silently over her skin. Ji-woo tried desperately to ignore the sensation, the warmth of his touch against her back.
“What are you doing? Use the washcloth over there.”
“It would be painful.”
“What?”
“The washcloth. It would be too rough on your skin.”
“What? Then… what’s the point of taking a bath?” Ji-woo hunched forward, trying to hide the web of bruises and scratches from branches and thorns. They were just an occupational hazard, but she flushed at his scrutiny.
“Then let’s skip the bath today…”
“Are you kidding me?” Ji-woo twisted around to glare at him, furious. First he’d insisted they bathe together, and now this.
“I’ll just—” He paused. “I’ll do it my way.”
His warm palms settled on her back. His hands were rough, calloused, yet his touch as he began to gently massage her shoulders was impossibly careful. She flinched when he pressed down on the tender muscles along her spine. The heat radiating from his palms against her bare skin was unsettling.
Ji-woo bit her lip and held her breath. The air in the small room grew thick, warm, and humid. When the tip of his finger brushed the underside of her breast, she quickly crossed her arms over her chest. He rubbed his thumbs in slow circles along her spine, down to the dip of her waist. Ji-woo felt herself threatening to melt into the hot water.
Awkward and nervous, she fixed her gaze on the ceiling. It’s the water, she told herself. The steam is just making my face burn, that’s all.
After the intimacy of the bath, lying in the same bed felt marginally less terrifying. The warmth had seeped into her bones, leaving her cozy and drowsy. She let out a weary sigh. “Goodnight, Seo Tae-joon.”
He lifted the blanket, draping it over her before lying down beside her. The mattress suddenly felt too small. Yet she was so comfortable that her eyes began to drift shut. Today was so long, she thought. Will every day be like this? My first full day with him… not everything went the way I wanted, but… it wasn’t entirely bad…
“Are you sleepy already?”
“Yes…” Ji-woo mumbled, before his question registered and she jerked upright, suddenly wide awake.
“What’s wrong?” Seo Tae-joon asked.
Why am I this comfortable? Panic seized her. Did I just think it wasn’t entirely bad? What is wrong with me?! The man tried to kill her. She’d hit him with a saw. He could kill her the instant his memory returned.
Ji-woo balled her hand into a fist and struck her own head. In a fluid motion, Seo Tae-joon sat up and caught her small wrists. “What are you doing?” he demanded.
She stared at him, her thoughts racing. What the hell was this? Was she really this at ease, lying next to a murderer? Get a grip, Ji-woo! Don’t forget the slaughterhouse! How could she even think of sleeping peacefully beside him? Her face turned pale and she wrenched her gaze away.
“Ji-woo.” Seo Tae-joon took her chin in his hand, forcing her to face him. Their eyes met for a fraction of a second before she squeezed hers shut, trying to block him out.
“Open your eyes,” he said gently.
Ji-woo refused.
“I don’t understand why you’re acting like this. Why is your leg on the floor?”
She had instinctively lowered her leg, preparing to bolt. She tried to turn her face from his grip, but he held fast. She bit her lip in silent protest.
Seo Tae-joon’s expression hardened at her rejection. “Are you really not going to open your eyes? Not going to look at me? You won’t even talk to me?”
Ji-woo didn’t respond to the growing impatience in his voice.
“Ji-woo, have you ever driven someone crazy?”
Before she could process the question, he bit her neck, a sharp little nip that made her eyes fly open. A short scream escaped her lips.
“The answer is probably no,” he murmured against her skin. “You’re being far too reckless.”
He buried his face in the curve of her neck, licking and then sucking at her skin, harder this time. He was biting and scraping at her as if he’d lost his mind, consumed by the heady scent of her skin.
“Ah…” Ji-woo squirmed in his grip, groaning in a mixture of pain and shock. But her struggle only seemed to excite him more. His mind went blank. There was only this thirst, and nothing else mattered. He held her face with one hand, the other tangling in the hair at the back of her head. He wanted all of her, every last part, even her blood.
“Ah!” she cried out as Seo Tae-joon pressed his teeth deeper into her soft flesh. The need for her had been simmering since morning.
Heat pooled low in his belly, a wetness blooming at the front of his drawers. Just tasting her skin was enough to set him on fire. This isn't enough. I want more. Something deep inside him, something primal, craved more. Seo Tae-joon wanted to devour her, body and soul.