He climbed onto the bed on his knees with me still wrapped around his waist, then fell onto the bed with me. His eyes were right in front of me as he swept my hair away where it was buried in the large pillow, gazing down at every part of my face.
Not just his eyes, which were reminiscent of a churning sea, but his entire face was so captivating that you couldn’t forget it even with a single glance—not just because it was flawless like a painting or a sculpture, but because it exuded its own mysterious aura and presence, leaving a deep mark on the impression of anyone who laid eyes on him… The fact that this beautiful man was the one who loved me and whom I loved felt new all over again. Perhaps it was because today was the first time we had allowed ourselves to use the word ‘love’ with each other.
As I stared at him, mesmerized, he kissed the tip of my nose and my lips before pushing himself up. The crotch of his black loungewear was unnaturally bulging, and the fabric between his legs was soaked a darker shade of black with the copious amount of precum a Golden Alpha produced.
He quickly stripped off his bottoms and settled between my legs, sliding his half-erect penis—which even in that state surpassed the maximum size of most men—over my testicles.
“Hngh… Mmm….”
Just the feeling of his penis brushing against my inner flesh was enough to make my hips lift into the air. He slid his hands down my legs, grasped both my ankles, and pushed them toward my chest. My knees bent naturally, and in the next moment, my bent legs straightened again as he rested my ankles on his shoulders. The position pressed his crotch even tighter against my ass. The sensation of his pubic hair rubbing between my buttocks made my breathing grow more ragged. He caressed my thighs and calves, arching his hips to create friction against our pressed-together lower bodies.
“Hah, hngh. Hah. Hn, hngh.”
Our gazes locked on each other’s faces, our chests heaving, our ragged breaths creating a tense, irregular rhythm.
He placed his hands next to my shoulders and leaned down, and my lower body folded in half along with his movement. I cupped his approaching face with my hands and swept back his sweat-dampened hair. Bending his arms, he lowered himself to kiss me, then pulled away and drew near again and again. I watched his face, waiting for his hot Alpha, rubbing over my testicles and penis, to grind against a deeper place.
“Ah, ngh!”
I bit my lip, clutching the sheets, but what I felt from below as his glans pushed in was far from pain or agony.
The thick, slick head pushed its way unhesitatingly through my inner walls, which had tightened in an attempt to return to their original state during the few days we’d gone without sex. It wasn’t exactly painful, but I could vividly feel the sensation of new flesh that had been healing and knitting itself together being forcibly parted by a merciless intruder.
To be honest, that was even better. I threw my head back and parted my lips, filled with the satisfaction of being slowly, distinctly pierced and seared by something massive and boiling hot. His cock always seemed to stab all the way to my lungs and heart, cutting off my breath and hindering my circulation. And yet, with just that little bit of breath and that small amount of blood, he made me feel more alive than ever.
Watching my every reaction as if to devour it, he lowered himself to take my bottom lip into his mouth, sending thrilling, dizzying sensations through me with his lips and teeth. Along with his thick, potent, and obscene scent that paralyzed my mind.
“Mmm, mm… Hah, ngh.”
The moment he pressed his body so close that my knees touched his shoulders, a deeper part of my insides opened up. I caressed his arms, where delicate muscles rippled, as if trying to tear at them, and tilted my chin up. His face contorted in time with his own rhythm of pulling back, then plunging in a little deeper than before. I let go of his arms and my hands traveled up to his broad, thick shoulders, then to his long, firm neck, the muscles pulled taut.
His dark eyebrows that sloped steeply toward the bridge of his nose whenever he was serious, displeased, or occasionally, feeling playful; his blue-gray eyes set deep and close to his brows, a testament to his rather complex lineage; the masculine width and height of his straight nose that gave an impression of both trustworthiness and elegance; and… his sensual lips, which were sexy when they were still, when they were slightly parted, and especially when he pronounced the English F and L sounds… I slowly traced them with my fingers.
He gasped, his shoulders heaving, and surrendered his face to my touch, focusing on pushing deeper inside me. As my finger traced over his lips, he puckered them for a kiss. I looked up into his eyes as he parted his lower lip wide and drew it up, rubbing the wet membrane inside against my finger, and forced out a strained voice.
“I sometimes wonder… what A Wei’s pheromones smell like.”
“……”
His eyes narrowed slightly, as if my words were unexpected. He wet his lower lip with his red, slick tongue and briefly slowed the pace of his hips, which had been stretching me open.
“They probably smell… really… good, right?”
“……”
“Though… I’ll never know.”
Looking down at me, he began to move his hips fluidly again. He bent his arms, leaning his upper body completely over me, and thrust his Alpha deep inside, cutting off my breath. I couldn’t speak or think anymore. There was nothing but to feel him, to hold him, to breathe in his cologne instead of his pheromones, and to become one with the rhythm he dictated.
He buried his lips deep in the nape of my neck, hidden by my hair, and sucked on the skin, branding me with a mark, urging himself on. The entire mattress rocked with the force of his thrusts as he drove into me.
“Hah, ngh… Hnngh….”
I threaded my fingers through his hair, slowly blinking my eyes open and closed. His face had moved to be right in front of mine.
“Did you forget I’m a Golden?”
“……”
“I’ll make it so no one can smell them….”
So don’t make that face. He promised that no one would ever know that scent. I hadn’t even asked him to, but he promised me first.
I nodded. I pulled his sweaty neck closer and kissed him first, whispering for him to make it so no one could smell them. I didn’t want to think about whether this possessiveness—this desire to claim even his scent that I couldn’t smell, to seal it away as my own—was a healthy form of love.
I couldn’t hold the thought for long anyway, because of his movements that built a fire inside my body, thrusting in and pulling out.
He had been slow and deliberate, restraining himself until my inner walls had fully adapted to his size. But soon, he was lunging at me as if picking a fight, devouring my lips and beginning to thrust his hips as violently as he pleased.
He didn’t just use his hips or his cock. As always, his method of creating waves of motion with his entire body to split me apart demanded tremendous energy, and in turn, unleashed tremendous pleasure.
The tight, heavy weight of him scraping my inner walls as he withdrew, then plunging deep in a single stroke, so hard that the fluids pooled inside me splattered out—it made me curl and uncurl my toes on his shoulders countless times.
“Hah, hnn. Hn. Nghh.”
I gripped his shoulders hard and panted, sensing the approaching knot like a tidal wave swelling from a distant sea, slowly churning the blood in my veins.
If all the knots until now had felt like accidents that happened while I was completely dominated by arousal, this time was different. His eyes looking down at me were slick with pleasure, but they were clear. They were the eyes of someone who was fully aware of what he was doing. They were so calm and composed it was hard to believe the violent friction happening down below.
Inside my belly, inside my body, his knot pulsed powerfully as if to prove its existence to me, and I came without even touching myself. But my own climax was no longer the issue. Even after I came, the pleasure and the orgasm continued. My penis, sensitive as it could be, kept reacting on its own, leaking a fluid that could have been either semen or precum.
After a deep kiss, he rubbed his face against my cheek so hard the tip of his nose squashed, and called my name between completely ragged breaths.
“Seo Yeehyeon….”
“……”
“I love you.”
“……I do, too.”
No matter what happens from now on, I hope the sincerity of this moment is never doubted or tarnished, he said, his brows furrowed deeply as he captured and released my lips.
And he added, in a voice that sounded as if it were being choked by something.
“I’ll be, I’ll be really good to you.”
I remembered hearing him say something like that before. I wrapped my arms around the neck of this man who, even after giving so much, only thought about what more he couldn’t give, and kissed his hot lips.
Maybe it was because of the pleasure of the knot I felt inside me, or maybe it was something else. I caressed his contorted face, kissed his eyelids, his nose, his cheeks, and his lips, called his name, and told him I loved him. His words, that even in the moment of knotting inside me he was actually anxious, remained in my heart.
As if he understood my intention, he looked down at me and smiled faintly. He stroked my hair, showered my whole body with kisses and branded it with marks, held me tight, and came, searing my insides with heat as his knot swelled to its maximum, stretching my inner walls. The knot subsided, and even the sensation of a huge amount of semen leaking out from between my legs was an extension of the sex.
We didn’t eat, clinging to each other’s bodies until after midnight. Sweat, semen, bodily fluids that soaked the sheets as if a two-liter bottle of water had been upended, and a single naked body branded all over with the red and purple marks he’d left—that was all that remained on his bed after sex.
I was too limp to even stand and shower, so he, who was as tireless as ever and still erect, prepared a bath for me. I had no appetite, but he insisted I had to eat something, bringing me a banana and a glass of milk as I soaked in the tub, languid and relaxed.
After washing off the secretions in the water, we went to my room instead of his wrecked bed and slept together.
I was excited by the fact that we were sleeping together for the first time after having sex. And for once, it was hard to hide it. We shared one large pillow, lying facing each other, caressing each other’s bodies as if enjoying the afterglow.
He bent the arm he had tucked into the space under the pillow, between my neck and shoulder, and wrapped it around my shoulder. With his other arm, he held my waist, slowly fiddling with the area around my side.
I, too, wrapped an arm around his back, tracing over his skin with my thumb, then tilted my chin up to look at him and asked.
“You’re not going to turn into a toad or a beast when I wake up tomorrow, are you?”
He laughed with his eyes closed. Then he spoke, stroking the end of the shoulder he was holding in a circle.
“Isn’t the story usually that they were a toad or a beast to begin with, and then turn human when they realize true love? I think you’ve got the order wrong.”
His proposal, our allowing each other to use the word ‘love’—it all felt so distant, as if I wasn’t sure it had really happened. But his arm shifting to pull me tighter, and his lips pressing against my forehead, were proof of it all.
He kissed my forehead and stroked my hair, saying it was time to sleep, and I closed my eyes to his touch. The deepest sleep was in his arms.
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