Secret Lovers

Soo-min's POV:

"Good morning. Would you like some breakfast?" I ask, testing the waters, my voice soft.

"I don't need you to make breakfast for me," he replies.

Same sentence as always.

Why… why did I expect anything different?

Maybe last night was just a joke to him. A moment. Nothing more.

Then I see it. The food on the counter. Two plates. One more than usual.

For me?

I hesitate mid-step, unsure what to do.

"I told you," he says stepping behind me. "Get used to it. You don't always have to be the only one giving."

He places his hands on the counter, one on either side of me, leaning in so close his breath brushes my ear.

"How about letting yourself be spoiled for a change?" he whispers, voice low and tender.

I swallow, my heart fluttering.

We had started playing a risky game.

Impossibly dangerous and utterly beautiful.

This thrill is beyond imagination. Sharing furtive glances, touches, whispers whenever we can.

"Did you have time to think about what I asked you?" he says, voice sharp with impatience. Loud enough for Tae-Jin to hear, but only we understand the real meaning.

He's not talking about work.

He's talking about us.

"I'm working on it…" I murmur, cheeks flushing with heat.

"What's holding you back?" His voice drops, low and dark. "This is important. I can't wait forever…"

Beside him, Tae-Jin chuckles.

"I'm glad to see you're finally making use of her," he says, clapping Seok-ho on the back.

He has no idea.

As much as we ache for each other, moments alone are rare.

I'm always busy. Always tending to Tae-Jin's endless whims.

Right now, I'm cleaning the home theatre .

I sigh loud and frustrated.

This whole room is such a waste.

A perfectly soundproofed, soft-lit, luxurious home theatre… that no one uses.

Tae-Jin had it built, probably to show off. But now, it's just another dusty, empty room in this house.

What a shame.

Or...

My thoughts shift.

No one uses this place.

No one ever comes in here.

My heart skips.

What if I made use of it?

What if we did?

My pulse quickens as an idea blossoms.

Bold and impossible.

I sink into the plush velvet couch. It embraces me like a secret.

I pull out my phone, biting my lip.

„ I could use some help. I'm in the theatre room, working on that project you gave me. But I'm stuck." I type the secret invitation, knowing he will understand.

I stare at the screen, finger hovering over the send button.

That's too brazen.

But I hit send anyway.

My hands act on their own.

I imagine him here, right now.

Climbing over me.

Five minutes pass.

Nothing.

I try to shake it off.

Ridiculous. Did I really expect him to come running like some love-sick boy?

Then...

A soft sound.

The door.

I hold my breath.

He's there.

Seok-ho.

Leaning against the frame, slightly breathless.

Dark shirt. Sleeves rolled up.

Eyes locked on me, burning.

"I didn't think you'd come," I whisper.

He shrugs, lips curving.

"You needed my help."

He closes the door behind him.

And steps closer, slowly, his gaze drinking me in like a predator sizing up its prey.

"Then tell me…" he murmurs. "What did you fantasize about?"

"You," I say, just like last time.

But this time, I pour every filthy thought into that one word.

"You stripped your clothes off…"

"Did I?" he grins.

He unbuttons his shirt, one button at a time. Then lets it fall behind him.

His eyes never leave mine.

Hunger burns in his gaze.

He reaches for his belt.

Loosens it.

Unbuttons his pants.

They slide down.

I forget to breathe.

I rise to my knees on the couch, hands instinctively reaching for his chest.

I can't stop myself.

Seok-ho's POV:

"What about your clothes?" I ask, my voice breaking the silence.

She looks at me.

Her face flushed with a mix of desire and deep embarrassment.

She braces herself, gathering the courage to say the words.

"You watch me as I take them off."

Her fingers tremble, and somehow, it only makes her even more alluring.

We stand before each other, completely exposed.

"And how do I please you this time?" I ask, my voice low, filled with lust.

She doesn't answer right away.

Her lips part, but I can see the struggle in her eyes, how mortified she is to command me like that. I savor the tension, enjoying the way she wrestles with her own hesitation, loving that I can break down the barriers she's built.

"Then you climb on top of me," she whispers, her voice barely audible.

My heart races.

I can barely contain myself.

I pin her down, just like I did in my dreams. I've imagined this moment countless times. I felt the heat of her body, the softness of her skin beneath mine, the intoxicating pull between us. Now that it's real, it's even more intense than I ever thought it would be.

I lower myself onto her, feeling her breath catch as I hover above her. I take a moment to look into her eyes. Those eyes that have haunted me for so long, always keeping me on edge.

"You wanted me here," I murmur, my lips brushing her ear, "and now I'm here. Tell me what you want."

Her pulse is racing, I can feel it against my chest.

She's barely holding it together, just like me.

"You kiss me," she breathes, and the command in her voice is clear.

I kiss her slowly, deeply, savoring every second.

My hands move of their own accord, tracing the curve of her waist, feeling the warmth of her skin as I lower my lips to her neck.

I can't stop myself.

She lets out a shaky breath, and that's all the encouragement I need. I press my body against hers, every inch of me craving her.

I smile against her skin.

This is exactly where I need to be.

And she knows it too.

"Please, just fuck me already" she pleas.

I press forward, and she clings to me, surrendering herself to the pleasure.