TIOAWN Chapter 34

How long had it taken him to cross this single threshold?

 

I’ve been serving him since before he became the chief executive and only started coming in after he was promoted to CEO…

 

Approximately five years just to cross this threshold.

 

Of course, Moo-geon had never explicitly forbidden him from entering his room. However, there was always an invisible line, a barrier that remained opaque and impenetrable.

 

Cha Moo-geon’s personal space was such a place.

 

How was he supposed to interpret the fact that he had brought Seo Ha-yoon into such a private space?

 

While Kang-heon hesitated, unable to find the right words, Ha-yoon, who was sitting on the bed without its owner, was also restless.

 

She perched on the edge of the bed, then lifted herself repeatedly, and throughout, a suffocating silence filled the room. Ha-yoon glanced at Kang-heon hesitantly, fiddling with the hem of Moo-geon’s coat.

 

Should I stand up? Why isn’t he saying anything? Where did Cha Moo-geon go?

 

She bit her lower lip and avoided looking in that direction, yet an inexplicable suffocation pressed down on her.

 

Rolling her round eyes, Ha-yoon craned her neck and stared at the empty space where Moo-geon had disappeared.

 

“Cha, Cha Moo—”

 

Ahem. A cough right in front of her made Ha-yoon jolt. She inadvertently locked eyes with Kang-heon and immediately turned her head away as if escaping.

 

Her body stiffened with tension. Her anxious eyes wavered like snowflakes caught in the wind.

 

“Cha Moo-geon.”

 

As if making up her mind, Ha-yoon shot up from her seat. Then, like a puppy searching for its owner, she quickly trotted after Moo-geon’s trail.

 

“Cha Moo—”

 

…geon.

 

As she glanced back and moved toward where Moo-geon had gone, Ha-yoon suddenly halted.

 

The sound of buttons being undone was rough. Her gaze landed on a broad, inverted-triangle-shaped shoulder and the thick muscles that prominently outlined his form.

 

“……”

 

Like someone parched under the scorching sun without a drop of water, Ha-yoon swallowed dryly and stroked her own throat.

 

He must have sensed my presence.

 

Yet the man continued moving only his hands without turning around.

 

The way he undressed was unhurried and natural. His shirt, precariously draped over his shoulders, slipped to the floor, and the snake tattoo coiling along his forearm shifted languidly.

 

Gulp.

 

Ha-yoon’s clear eyes lost their way and became trapped in his frame.

 

His firmly sculpted chest, the sharply defined oblique muscles, and abs that seemed parched and cracked like drought-stricken earth.

 

There was nowhere she could place her gaze, yet no part of him she could look away from.

 

Gulp. Gulp.

 

While Ha-yoon swallowed repeatedly, Moo-geon, who had been skimming his fingers along the hanger to choose a shirt, slowly turned his upper body.

 

“Quite the refined taste.”

 

His deep voice tapped against her ears.

 

“Or is it distasteful?”

 

His ink-black eyes flickered with an unreadable glint, and in his pupils, Ha-yoon barely fit within the frame.

 

“…Taste?”

 

She shook her head in denial, but his expression remained deeply skeptical.

 

“How does it feel to steal glances like a stray cat?”

 

Moo-geon took a bold step forward, tucked her disheveled side hair behind her ear, and leaned in close to her nape.

 

“Take it off.”

 

Closing his eyes and inhaling deeply, he brushed his moist lips against the curve of her neck as he commanded her. His low voice spread like the hues of a setting sun.

 

“…What?”

 

“You should take your clothes off too, Seo Ha-yoon. You should have been prepared for this when you decided to spy.”

 

At the voice pressing down on her nape, the fine hairs on her body stood on end, and her toes curled inward.

 

Ha-yoon pulled Moo-geon’s long coat more tightly around herself. The coat, which reached down to her ankles, covered every inch of her skin.

 

Her feeble attempt at defense was laughable. Moo-geon, who stifled a chuckle, effortlessly stripped off the coat.

 

“Should I take this off too?”

 

Moo-geon slid his hand beneath the dress shirt Ha-yoon was wearing, pulling her closer as he spoke.

 

“Th-there are people outside…”

 

Ha-yoon hesitated, mumbling. As she averted her gaze, he immediately lifted her chin with his fingers.

 

“So what?”

 

You’re quite composed, Seo Ha-yoon. Even capable of paying attention to what’s outside.

 

A smirk. A faint chuckle dissipated like mist. Ha-yoon’s vision blurred.

 

“Shall we make some noise?”

 

A teasing voice. Eyes folded softly. His persistent gaze trapped her, leaving her unable to move. Ha-yoon swallowed dryly.

 

In response, Moo-geon moved the hand he had slipped in. His straight index finger tapped at her lower belly, then glided up toward her navel.

 

When his fingers reached her breast, drawing circles around the peak before teasing the sensitive skin, she shuddered.

 

“Should I undress you myself?”

 

Shaking her head, Ha-yoon pushed Moo-geon away with both hands. Determined, she began unbuttoning from the top.

 

One, two, three. As the buttons came undone, her chest was revealed. At the same time, her movements noticeably slowed.

 

As he silently watched, Moo-geon took a step forward. Instinctively, Ha-yoon stepped back.

 

“Ah.”

 

A chill ran up her spine. She had barely moved half a step before her back hit the wall.

 

Moo-geon, who had been intently observing the predicament, leaned in close and placed his hand over hers.

 

“You need to keep going, Seo Ha-yoon.”

 

His fingers brushed hers, as if he might undo the buttons for her. The mere act of playing with her hands sent a tingling sensation to her lower abdomen.

 

Perhaps dissatisfied with the slow pace, Moo-geon moved his hand quickly and nibbled on her earlobe.

 

“Mm.”

 

His lips trailed down her collarbone, leaving wet traces as he teased the peak of her breast. The shirt slipped off her shoulders in an instant.

 

“Ah… hng.”

 

Even the lightest touch of his palm made Ha-yoon’s body react. Her back arched, her head tilted back. Just as she felt Moo-geon’s gaze brush over her, the ceiling spinning, she realized her upper body was fully exposed.

 

Moo-geon pressed his thumb against the corner of her eye, where excitement had gathered. Then, as if nothing had happened, he draped her discarded shirt over himself.

 

The firm muscles of his abs and chest disappeared beneath the fabric, covering even the snake tattoo writhing on his forearm. The shirt settled on him as though it belonged there.

 

“…That shirt is wrinkled.”

 

Ha-yoon glanced at the hanger.

 

There were plenty of neatly pressed shirts. Why did he have to take the one she had been wearing?

 

If he even heard her words, Moo-geon showed no sign. His fingers leisurely fastened the buttons.

 

As if he didn’t care at all about the wrinkles on the sleeves.

 

His hands moved gracefully as he unfolded the cuffs and secured the cufflinks. It was hard to believe this was the same person who had moments ago left red marks on her skin, biting at her nape and stripping her shirt off at will.

 

A sophisticated golden metal watch wrapped around his wrist, and his black jacket fit him perfectly. Even the crumpled shirt couldn’t tarnish Cha Moo-geon’s presence.

 

The air stilled, and the atmosphere shifted. A man who seemed to know nothing of indulgence exuded an overwhelming presence.

 

Just one look, just a breath from him, and her legs trembled. Unable to stop the trembling, Ha-yoon had no choice but to brace herself against the wall.

 

The body he had toyed with still heaved with ragged breaths.

 

Here she was, in this state, while that man remained utterly unshaken.

 

Perfectly straight brows, an unruffled forehead, hair meticulously in place.

 

I should’ve messed him up.

 

Like a fool, she had simply let him unbutton her shirt. Instead, she should have buried her fingers in his hair and left him in a disheveled mess.

 

He had stripped her bare, and yet Cha Moo-geon remained unscathed and pristine, leaving her feeling unjustly wronged.

 

What am I even thinking?

 

Ha-yoon’s shoulders shook slightly as she bit down on the inside of her lip.

 

Moo-geon, oblivious to her thoughts, casually picked a shirt from the neatly arranged ones in the dressing room and held it out to her.

 

“Put this on.”

 

A monotonous voice. A languid gesture. Emotionless eyes.

 

“Why should I wear this?”

 

After stripping her moments ago, why was Cha Moo-geon now handing her a shirt?

 

As Ha-yoon hesitated, he stepped closer.

 

A crisp, refreshing winter scent washed over her as though snowflakes were softly falling.

 

“So you do know how to take things off. You just don’t know how to put them back on.”

 

Clicking his tongue as if scolding a child, Moo-geon guided her arms into the sleeves one by one and pulled the collar tight.

 

At a distance close enough for their lips to touch, he deliberately tilted his head, letting their gazes overlap.

 

His breath was hot, and the winter scent that enveloped him grew more intoxicating.

 

“Keep it buttoned. Don’t go unfastening it just anywhere.”

 

Moo-geon bit out his words firmly, a warning in his tone, before brushing past her.

 

Standing there dazed, Ha-yoon caught the familiar scent lingering on the shirt she now wore.

 

It was chillingly crisp yet silent and heavy, making her breath deepen involuntarily.

 

Cha Moo-geon’s scent.

 

“Cha Moo-geon.”

 

By the time she returned to the bedroom after passing the short hallway, he was gone. Alone in a room filled with his scent, Ha-yoon pressed a hand against her pounding heart.