“What? No… I—”
“So desperate to get rid of me you’d lie about our marriage?”
“Wait… I wasn’t! I can prove it.”
“Then prove it,” he challenged, his voice flat.
“I’ll get the family relations certificate tomorrow. I’ll show you.”
Seo Tae-joon sighed, a sound of pure exasperation. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. He held it out to her, lifting his chin in a silent command for her to take it. His cold, unrelenting gaze never left her face.
She unfolded the paper, her eyes scanning the official print. A tidal wave of shock crashed over her, leaving her frozen, paralyzed.
The Family Relations Certificate. No matter how many times she read it, the words remained the same. Her name, Han Ji-woo, was printed right next to his. Under the header labeled ‘Wife.’ Stunned, she could only stare. “What is this?!” This has to be forged, she thought, her mind reeling. It has to be. How is this possible?
“Shameless, aren’t you? Lying to my face yet again.”
The image of a man smoking a thick cigar flashed through her mind—the man who had threatened to make her life a living hell. Was this his doing? Could he truly alter the very fabric of her life with a single piece of paper?
“So that’s it,” Seo Tae-joon said, his voice laced with contempt. “That’s why you’re meeting other men behind my back. Trying to find that ‘kind and warm’ man you always wanted so you can remarry?”
She was at a loss for words.
“It’s easy to convince your fool of a husband, isn’t it?” He stared at her, a miserable cast to his features. “Tell me we never signed a marriage license and then just run away.” He stroked the side of her neck, his touch deceptively gentle before his fingers tightened, grabbing hold. “Ji-woo. Tell me again how we’re not married. How I’m not your husband.” His voice was a low, dangerous growl.
Ji-woo winced, the pressure of his hand a stark warning. “Don’t do anything stupid, Seo Tae-joon.”
His eyes were no longer human; they were predatory. Her heart hammered against her ribs, and her mouth went dry. The heat from his palm seemed to sear through her damp skin, a stark contrast to the chill of the rain.
“After a lie like that, I have no intention of being a gentleman,” he said. His free hand slid under her wet blouse, his fingers tracing the line of her spine before deftly unhooking her bra. The mouth she could never refuse came down on hers again.
“How could you be so naïve?” he whispered against her lips. He kissed her then, a hard, punishing kiss, and she flinched from the heat of his breath.
She was chilled to the bone, yet a fire was igniting deep inside her, a bewildering mix of fear and desire. Unable to push him away, she found her arms wrapping around his back, pulling him closer. Seo Tae-joon grunted, a frustrated sound, as if no amount of contact was enough. His tongue swept into her mouth, aggressive and demanding, plundering every inch. The kiss was frantic, almost primal.
Her knees trembled, and she clung to his shoulders, feeling as if her legs would give out at any moment. Sensing her weakness, Seo Tae-joon lifted her effortlessly. She wrapped her legs around his waist as he carried her toward the bedroom, his mouth never leaving hers, stealing her breath with every searing kiss.
He finally pulled away as he laid her on the bed, hovering over her. Their chests rose and fell in ragged unison as they gasped for air.
Seo Tae-joon let out a curse, then bit down on her lower lip, not enough to break the skin but enough to make her cry out. His tongue skillfully explored her mouth once more as his hands went to her clothes, ripping at the fabric. Buttons scattered across the floor with a series of soft clicks.
“Seo Tae-joon—”
“Don’t, Ji-woo. No more lies.” He fumbled with the buckle of her belt, his eyes dark with a lust that devoured her. It was impossible to tell if the moisture on his face was from the rain or from sweat. “I’m done playing this charade. I don’t want a wife on the surface. I want you for real.”
With her bra already unhooked, her breasts were bare to his gaze. Seo Tae-joon leaned down, taking a nipple into his mouth. He suckled, and a violent shiver coursed through her.
“Ahh,” she gasped, a coil of heat tightening low in her belly. She could feel his tongue laving the sensitive peak, and she struggled to draw a steady breath.
A slick wetness bloomed between her legs. She had never felt so hot, so flustered; she didn’t know what to do with the overwhelming sensation. While gently nibbling on her breast, Seo Tae-joon finally unbuckled her pants and dragged them down her legs.
“Ahhh,” she moaned as his hand slid down and his fingers brushed against her most sensitive flesh. “Seo Tae-joon…”
He hooked his fingers into her panties, pulling them down just enough to spread her legs wide. He touched her again, his thumb rubbing her clit until the world dissolved into pure sensation. He clenched his jaw, feeling how soft and wet she was for him.
“Ahhh, mm!” she cried out. “Seo Tae-joon, please… promise me something.”
Without warning, he shoved a finger inside her. Her back buckled, and she collapsed against his shoulder, panting. “Never… ahh… get your memory back. Never. Mmm… ahhh!”
Her wetness coated his finger, slick and hot. It was the first time he had ever felt her like this, softer and tighter than he had imagined. Arousal, sharp and fierce, shot through him. His eyes filled with raw desire. He wanted nothing more than to drive himself into her without restraint, but he held back. He was already hard, throbbing against her thigh. He looked into her eyes.
“Is that really important right now?” he asked, his voice a hoarse rasp.
“Yes,” she breathed, the word a sigh of pleasure.
“Would it be easier for you?” he asked, his voice low. “To accept this… if I never remember?”
She looked at him, her gaze shaky and vulnerable. “Yes.”