And then he threaded his arm under my bent knees, reached it all the way to my back, and lifted me up just like that.
My body was lifted so lightly, and the next moment, I was floating in the air, held in his arms. My own arms, wrapped around his neck, naturally tightened, but he smiled with his sweat-drenched face as if to say there was nothing to worry about.
“From now on… should we go around like this? Go to work like this, go to meetings, eat… I’m thinking we should.”
At his joke, as he even took a few steps while holding me as if practicing, a laugh escaped me despite the situation. With that laugh, I felt some of the red smoke that had filled my head begin to clear.
“Hnh, hhuu.”
But the laughter didn’t last long. He stopped near the foot of the bench, moved his pelvis to securely reposition his cock—which had slipped out while he was lifting me—and then began to thrust his hips.
I had no time to marvel at his strength, holding and rocking me without leaning on any object like a wall or a desk to share my weight. Instead, I had to endure the sensation of every orifice in my body seeming to widen from the unfamiliar intensity of the stimulation in this new position.
“Haeu… heu… heuk….”
My own weight added to the force of his pelvis pushing me away, doubling the rebound. Each time I collided with him again, his cock drove deep inside me with a thud, thud, as if it would carve a groove in my shape within me. The intensity with which he struck my insides was completely different from when we did it lying down or standing up.
The friction of our sweat-slicked bare skin slapping against each other was stickier than usual. We hadn’t used lube since our first time in Hong Kong, but today, the amount of his precum seemed especially abundant. I could feel the fluid being pushed out from around the base of his cock each time my body was thrust back and collided with his groin to complete the insertion. And still, the viscosity inside me didn’t dry up.
Readjusting his grip on my slick body, he rubbed his lips against my cheek.
“Do you know… what it’s like inside you right now?”
Unlike the ferocity of his lower body thrusting me away, his voice was gentle.
“Hheuuh, heu….”
Unlike him, I couldn’t form a sentence. With a parched throat, I let out a shrill moan and simply met his eyes.
The eyes that met mine held the unmistakable ecstasy of a man in love. Whether it was physical or spiritual ecstasy, they were the eyes of a man who, in this moment, seemed literally bewitched by me.
“The feeling of being wrapped so stickily and warmly, so tightly without a single gap, feels so good that… for the first time since I presented at twelve, I’m glad I was born an alpha. Right now.”
He was clearly in a state of extreme arousal, but it didn’t sound like the lip service one might offer in the heat of sex. Not that he was the type to spout such things anyway.
I had thought that in sex with me, a beta, he might feel pleasure as a man, but that it would be difficult for him to find satisfaction as an alpha… but knowing he wasn’t one to enjoy pheromone-driven sex, his words sounded like the ultimate confession to me.
“Hheuuh, heuk. Heup!”
The pace of his thrusts, which had seemed to be slowing for a moment, quickened. He lowered his hips slightly, striking me from the bottom up and adding to the rebound, and I wrapped my arms tightly around his neck until our chests were pressed together. There was no dignity in this position—held by him with my knees bent and legs spread, only my hips bucking—but dignity had been excluded from the sex he taught me from the very beginning.
His thrusts, as he stood firm as a rock and rapidly bucked me, were almost like a howl. As if pouring something from within himself into me, as if he couldn’t bear it otherwise, he was relentlessly fast and fierce.
“I am, but you must not be. To you, this is….”
The voice that muttered those words was not that of someone drenched in pleasure, someone who was ‘so glad to be born an alpha for the first time.’
I loosened the arms I had wrapped so tightly around him and looked at his face. His eyes, looking at me, seemed to be conflicted between pleasure and pain. I traced his face with my fingertips and, though he hadn’t asked, let my saliva flow into his mouth.
“Don’t say that…. I like it, too….”
I didn’t know what normal sex was. I didn’t even have another personal experience to compare it to. What was important was that in sex with him, I felt not shame and withdrawal, but satisfaction and liberation.
“I’m sorry.”
Pressing his forehead against mine, he muttered, “I’m sorry,” over and over.
And then he sucked fiercely at my lips and tongue. We shared saliva, tangling together so frantically that it was impossible to tell what belonged to whom. At his rich, sexual scent, I felt as if every orifice in my body, starting with my nose, was flaring open.
The force with which he shook me grew more violent, and with no support to bear his own strength, he stumbled around the room holding me, like a robotic vacuum cleaner that had lost its sense of direction.
Thud. He finally stopped his advance when my back hit the wall. He pressed against me with his whole body as if to carve me into the wall and kissed me deeply. I could feel his inexhaustible precum seeping out, trickling down from where we were joined.
“Eueu, mm. Eumm….”
I scratched his back and flailed my dangling calves in the air. Battering and pounding as if to leave bruises on my inner walls, he was knotting. As soon as I felt the throbbing, powerful pulse of the knot, I thrashed my limbs and spilled my seed.
He rocked me up and down as if to soothe me, and I begged him in a hoarse voice to please let me go. Even the lack of freedom, the suppression of my desire to tremble as I pleased and writhe like a madman, ultimately led to pleasure.
The lace of my underwear, cinching my cock, felt constricting, so I pulled one end of the ribbon myself. The underwear, undone on one side, couldn’t fall to the floor because of how tightly our lower bodies were pressed together; instead, it rubbed between his groin and mine, heightening the sensation.
It was the longest knot we’d ever had, so much so that I came twice while he was still knotted inside me. Before his cock could shrink and slip out of me, he had to lay me back down on the bench.
As he laid my limp body down and diligently licked my temple, the heat of his lips and tongue made me realize that I was trembling all over, crying in pleasure.
“It’s okay, I’m right here. Don’t cry…. Don’t cry…. I’ll do better.”
The constant shower of small kisses on my lips, his desperate whispers, all sounded distorted and distant, like hearing a voice from outside while underwater.
He had said something similar the first time he knotted. That it was okay because he was here. I might have misheard it in the pleasure of the knot, which felt like being choked to the verge of passing out, but the words ‘I’ll do better’ hadn’t been there then.
Even now, he was doing so well—so well that I felt sorry for having done nothing for him—so how much better was he planning to do?
Following that vague thought came the sound of my name, repeated like a devout prayer.
Seo Yeehyeon, Seo Yeehyeon….
He held my hand, kissing the back of it again and again as he called my name. This was much better to hear than an apology.
Even as he soothed me so earnestly, he made no move to leave my body. I squeezed out all my strength to give him a faint smile, to tell him I was okay. He looked at me with a sorrowful face, as if he had hurt me, but I wasn’t in pain; I was at the peak of pleasure. There was nothing for him to apologize for.
○
He was in the study.
The balcony doors leading to the garden were wide open, letting in a river breeze from the Han River, but it was the middle of summer, with August just around the corner. The air that filled the room, into which sunlight poured along with the breeze, was muggy.
“You said you’d buy me a delicious lunch, and this is where you called me? It’ll be delivery food at best, I bet.”
She leaned against the open study doorframe and complained playfully with a smile on her face. The man, who had been sitting at his desk staring blankly out at the garden, turned his head and smiled sheepishly.
“If I’m here, you’d have to eat lunch alone. I called you to eat with me.”
The man was wearing sunglasses. Although he was indoors, the light streamed all the way to the entrance of the room where she stood, so the sunglasses didn’t look out of place.
“It’s sandwiches, is that okay?”
On the sofa table in front of the desk he pointed to, there was a plastic bag with a logo and iced coffees in a carrier. It was the logo of her favorite sandwich shop.
Whether he had used a delivery app or a driver had gone to the trouble, the ice in the coffee hadn’t melted at all despite the room’s temperature, as if it had been bought just before she arrived.
“If it’s sandwiches from here, that’s a different story.”
Pleased, she sat on the sofa and took a sip of the cool coffee.
Lately, he had been coming here to work sometimes, instead of the gallery. This was new, but it wasn’t a time when his absence from the office would cause problems, so she didn’t complain. Yuni and Juhan seemed to welcome it, saying the new employees would be less uncomfortable without him around.
He urged her to start eating, gesturing to the sandwiches, then sat in his chair and played around, rolling the wheels back and forth. He didn’t look very hungry.
“Of the exhibition pamphlets I gave you last time, he showed interest in the Renaissance exhibition. It seems he’s not very interested in contemporary art. It might be difficult to go too far, but could you tell the office to look into classical art exhibitions being held in cities within a four-hour flight? The new hires should be able to handle that much.”
She had just taken a big bite of her sandwich, which was generously filled with lobster meat. Her eyes widened as she stared at him, wondering if she had heard correctly.
“You mean you’ll let him go see exhibitions held overseas?”
“We have to. He doesn’t show interest in installation or interactive art. And we can’t just wait for exhibitions to be held in Korea.”
The man who was asked the question, however, acted as if this measure was only natural and there was no other way. After she just stared at him in silence for a while, he finally noticed her gaze and looked her way.
“……What.”
“It’s nothing.”
She shook her head, and he frowned from behind his sunglasses.
“What is it?”
“It’s just that. I was just thinking you don’t seem to care much about other artists these days.”
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