The front door slammed shut behind them, and in the same motion, their lips crashed together. Seo Tae-joon pinned her against the wall, his mouth devouring hers. He sucked at her lower lip before his tongue plunged past her teeth, his other hand tangling forcefully in her hair.
A shudder wracked Ji-woo’s frame. This was a first for her, this raw, invasive intimacy. She had never imagined being pressed against a man like this, his tongue a searing presence in her mouth.
He nibbled at her lips, his tongue sweeping deeper. The wet, slapping sound of their kiss shattered her thoughts, scattering them like dust. Overwhelmed, Ji-woo could do nothing but gasp for the little air he allowed her.
“Mmm…”
Wait, wait… what is happening? A few minutes ago, they were eating flowers under the sunset. A strange, simmering tension had built between them, a feeling Ji-woo was still struggling to name when Seo Tae-joon had suddenly dragged her inside. His expression had gone hard, unreadable, and then this had started.
She tried to push him away, but his strength was absolute. He only pulled her tighter, his kiss turning ravenous. His tongue was relentless, stroking and demanding a response from hers. Shoving hard against his chest, she met his eyes over their joined mouths. In contrast to the heat of his lips, his gaze was ice-cold.
Ji-woo flinched, and he took it as an invitation, crushing her body against his. The kiss deepened, a punishing pressure that seemed to draw all the air from her lungs. He tasted the lingering sweetness of the flower petals on her tongue, and the sound of it echoed in the silent entryway. Trembling, she found herself submitting to the kiss.
I have to stop him, she thought, the command feeling distant and weak. She shoved at him again, beating her fists against his shoulders, but he didn't even seem to notice. Without breaking the kiss for a second, he began backing her towards the sofa. Ji-woo struck him harder and wrenched her head to the side. He simply caught her face in his hand, turned her back to him, and reclaimed her mouth, his other hand clamping down on her waist.
The more she fought, the more unyielding his hold became. Their legs tangled, and they tumbled onto the sofa. He loomed over her, finally breaking the kiss to pant for breath. His eyes, sharp and predatory, held a glint that reminded her of a wild animal.
“So,” he breathed, his voice low and rough. “Is a man allowed to ask his wife to bed?”
“I… um…” Ji-woo’s mind was blank. Something hard and thick pressed insistently against her stomach, a clear and urgent demand. “Did you forget we have a platonic arrangement?”
“That was the old arrangement.” Seo Tae-joon’s brow furrowed slightly. “I’m not the same man.” A slow, dangerous smile spread across his lips. “Forget the man you knew. Let me show you what you’ve been missing.”
Ji-woo had always been the one to dictate the terms of their relationship, to mold it to her liking. Now, that control was gone, leaving her feeling helpless and utterly lost. He lowered his head again, but this time his kiss was different.
“I’ll be gentle,” he whispered against her lips. It was a chaste, soft press, a stark contrast to the brutal kiss from moments before. But his eyes told a different story. “Trust me,” he said. “If you tell me to stop, I’ll stop. If you tell me to continue, I will.”
He moved down, his teeth grazing the fabric of her shirt just above her collarbone. Ji-woo’s toes curled. “It’s… it’s difficult for me.”
“What is?” he asked, his breath warm against her skin.
She scrambled for a reason, any reason. “You… you wouldn’t like it,” she stammered, her mind racing. “Because I’m… I’m not very responsive. With things like this. It’s not on purpose, I just… lie there like a log until it’s over. We’ve done this before, remember? It didn’t work.”
Her words hung in the quiet room. “That’s funny,” he said, his voice laced with amusement.
“What is?”
“You. Making excuses.” He smirked, pulling away from her neck to look her in the eye. “I wonder how many more of those you have stored away.”
Ji-woo’s face stiffened. “If we’re supposed to be a real married couple, deeply in love,” he continued, his tone mocking, “you’re going to have to come up with something more convincing than that.” With an effortless movement, he sat her up on the sofa.
Sharing a bed with Seo Tae-joon after what had happened felt acutely embarrassing. While she showered, he had gone to her office and returned with a book.
Now she sat awkwardly on her side of the bed, staring at the wall. “Goodnight, Ji-woo,” he said.
Surprised, she glanced at him. “You’re not sleeping?”
“You go ahead,” he replied, his voice even. “I’m going to read for a bit.”
He switched off the main light, plunging the room into darkness before the soft glow of his bedside lamp bloomed. He slipped under the covers, leaned back against the headboard, and opened his book. The only sound in the room was the soft rustle of turning pages.
But sleep wouldn't come. It was nearly midnight, yet Ji-woo felt wide awake, her body thrumming with a nervous energy she couldn’t quell. Perhaps it was the anxiety, or perhaps it was because she had woken so late that morning.
In the end, she gave up, feigning sleep while peeking at him from under her lashes. Illuminated in the warm lamplight, his profile was calm, focused. He seemed like a completely different person from the man who had kissed her with such savage intensity that afternoon.
A wave of frustration washed over her. It was unfair that she was the only one still reeling, her heart still pounding at the memory. Every move he made, every quiet breath, sent a fresh jolt of awareness through her. She felt completely unmoored.
Just then, Seo Tae-joon closed his book with a soft, definitive snap.