TIOAWN Chapter 31

The kiss that began at the nape of her neck deepened. His tongue, slick with saliva, traced over her clavicle, moving between the loose folds of her hospital gown.  

 

Without any undergarments, her nipples reacted instantly to even the slightest touch.  

 

Moo-geon’s hand lightly brushed against her bare skin before his tongue, gliding over the fabric of her patient’s gown, teased the hardened peaks.  

 

He took them into his mouth, rolling them like candy on his tongue. Flicking them just enough to taste, his movements left Ha-yoon’s vision hazy.  

 

Stars burst forth, and the moon wavered in a dizzying dance.  

 

As she tilted her head slightly toward the window, she couldn’t tell whether she was trembling or if the world outside was in chaos.  

 

His broad palm caressed each vertebra as he slid the gown off her shoulder, sinking his teeth into her flesh.  

 

“Ah!”  

 

You’re reckless, Seo Ha-yoon. You should’ve just eaten the food quietly and rested. Why do you keep provoking me?  

 

His dark pupils locked onto her, holding her captive.  

 

The cool hand tracing down her spine sent a shiver through her. The tongue flicking between her wrists and fingertips made her mind go blank…  

 

Unable to distinguish one sensation from another, Ha-yoon arched her back, letting out a string of breathy moans.  

 

“Mm… Ah… Ngh.”  

 

As the hand that had been stroking her back moved past her smooth abdomen to cup the swell of her chest, his tongue traced teasing circles around her navel.  

 

“Ah… Hng.”  

 

Unable to suppress herself, Ha-yoon twisted her hips, and Moo-geon flipped her over completely.  

 

He pressed down on her from behind, pushing up her gown without hesitation. When his tongue swept along the curve of her spine, she shuddered violently.  

 

“W-Wait… Hng… Just a…”  

 

She kicked her legs, but his firm ones locked her in place on either side.  

 

“You asked me to do this.”  

 

You wanted this, Seo Ha-yoon.  

 

“Ahh…”  

 

Sliding one hand under her abdomen, he trailed kisses down her back, sucking deeply at the nape of her neck.  

 

“Hah…”  

 

Exhaling a slow breath, Moo-geon ran his fingers through her hair, tousling it.  

 

The humid air heated the back of her head, her heart hammering in her chest. She couldn’t resist tilting her head away, only for him to sink his teeth into her neck, sucking harshly.  

 

“Cha… Ngh… Moo… Geon…”  

 

Reaching behind her, Ha-yoon’s fingers brushed against the IV tube, swaying lightly.  

 

Something’s wrong. I can’t hold back.  

 

A desperate restlessness surged within her, a pleasure just out of reach leaving her aching for more.  

 

I want to hold him. I want to make him mine.  

 

Was this how he felt when I did it to him?

 

Her skin burned red, as though she were being stripped bare layer by layer.  

 

The sensation was overwhelming, searing yet numbing at the same time. She couldn’t even keep her lips sealed.  

 

A sudden impulse surged through her—to mess up that neatly combed hair, to tangle her fingers in it.  

 

As if reading her mind, Moo-geon dragged his nails lightly down her back, tracing a path with his lips.  

 

Lower still, he buried his face against her thigh, his tongue swirling in slow, deliberate circles.  

 

His hands, gripping her pale thighs, massaged the skin before his tongue pressed down, sucking hard enough to leave a mark.  

 

As his lips bloomed red flowers across her skin, Ha-yoon, who had been whimpering under his touch, reached out and ran her fingers through his hair.  

 

“Ah… Hah… Hnn…”  

 

Wherever his hands roamed, her body melted, and wherever his lips lingered, she felt her bones dissolve.  

 

Is this what it means to be devoured whole?  

 

Her thighs, calves, ankles—finally, even her toes—were surrendered to him. Ha-yoon trembled violently.  

 

“Hngh…”  

 

Something feels strange.  

 

Is it because her whole body glistened with Cha Moo-geon’s saliva? She no longer felt like she belonged to herself.  

 

“Ahh… No, not there…”  

 

As her hands clutched the bedsheets, Moo-geon’s palm covered hers, pressing it down to keep the IV needle from dislodging.  

 

Unfazed, he continued, his tongue gliding between her toes, his fingers massaging her ankle.  

 

When he finally sucked on her toes one by one, an arrogant smirk played on his lips as he lifted his head.  

 

“M-My lips…”  

 

Please, do it there instead.  

 

Even as her heavy eyelids drooped, Ha-yoon whispered the words she shouldn’t have.  

 

That tone—enough to make Cha Moo-geon snap.  

 

Shit.  

 

There was no ‘holding back’ anymore.  

 

Like some beast in heat, it wasn’t enough that he was already all over her while she lay there in a hospital gown—he was doing everything she asked, as though possessed.  

 

A moment ago, it was Seo Ha-yoon who had been writhing in desperation. But at some point, the tables had turned completely.  

 

His fevered kisses lasted until the moment Ha-yoon, exhausted, finally drifted into sleep.  

 

***

 

With his hands shoved into his pockets, Moo-geon stood with his back to the desk, gazing out at the winter scenery.

 

They had said there would be an unusually heavy snowfall this winter. The forecast was right.

 

“I will report.”

 

“Go ahead.”

 

The snow that had fallen overnight adorned the bare branches like flowers. Should he find it pitiful, watching the snowflakes struggle to cling on when a single gust of wind could scatter them away?

 

“…So postponing the business trip was not an option.”

 

Hoo, hoo. The breath from the small lips soon formed a hazy film before Moo-geon.

 

Moo-geon kept his gaze fixed intently on the large window.

 

Creak, creak. Every movement of his index finger produced the sound of footsteps treading across a snowy field.

 

It was so vivid that he almost forgot whether he was standing in a hospital room or an office.

 

Drawing weak lines that would disappear once the breath faded, over and over again.

 

The image of Ha-yoon’s delicate fingers moving as if weaving a spell kept surfacing in his mind.

 

“Ha.”

 

Had he completely lost it now?

 

Thinking of Seo Ha-yoon even at the office.

 

As if that weren’t enough, seeing remnants of her everywhere he looked.

 

Moo-geon let out a dry chuckle, and as if waiting for it, the image of the drawing Ha-yoon had sketched on the front gate appeared on the window.

 

Who had said that human hands could never surpass nature?

 

It was hard to dismiss Seo Ha-yoon’s drawings as just mere pictures.

 

The one she had drawn on the hospital’s glass window last night.

 

The one she had drawn at the gate before he drove her away that night.

 

What was she doing now? Snapping back to reality, Moo-geon turned around and placed his hands on the desk.

 

“Lee Sung-sik. Fifty-nine years old. Graduated from a prestigious high school, then a top university with a major in business administration. He is currently the chief secretary of Gallery R, owned by Jin Bo-young.”

 

“Do I really need to be briefed on whether Lee Sung-sik was a good student?”

 

Even if Jin Bo-young was the matriarch of the Songhwa Group, what use was knowing her secretary’s academic background? At Moo-geon’s sharp remark, Kang-heon swallowed hard.

 

“That is his publicly known history, but upon investigation, he only completed middle school.”

 

“Middle school?”

 

“Yes, he dropped out of high school.”

 

“Are you certain that he’s looking for Seo Ha-yoon?”

 

“Yes, absolutely.”

 

The moment Kang-heon finished his sentence, Moo-geon removed his watch. With a swift motion, he tossed it, and it landed precariously at the edge of the desk, teetering before settling still.

 

“Did you know that Jin Bo-young’s maternal family, which had been dedicated to art for generations, was once closely associated with a gang?”

 

“It’s not surprising that artists would count dirty money with gangsters.”

 

His tone was languid and indifferent. It was typical of Cha Moo-geon, always composed.

 

“So it’s not exactly shocking that one of those gangsters is now by Jin Bo-young’s side.”

 

Even though Kang-heon had not explicitly mentioned Lee Sung-sik’s background, Moo-geon had immediately grasped the context.

 

“Still, I—”

 

Kang-heon trailed off, gauging Moo-geon’s reaction.

 

“Go on.”

 

Moo-geon leaned back into his chair, placing a cigarette between his lips, and exhaled a long stream of smoke.

 

“The combination of a former gangster and Jin Bo-young seems rather unusual.”

 

Moo-geon let out a soft chuckle, the smile vanishing into the smoke.

 

“Exactly. If it were just an old family head wanting to protect his daughter, having a guard dog would make sense, but a chief secretary? That doesn’t quite fit.”

 

A bodyguard, maybe. But why was someone like that searching for Seo Ha-yoon?

 

He inhaled deeply, drawing the cigarette smoke into his lungs before releasing it in a long exhale. Flicking the ash onto the floor, he leaned back against the chair and closed his eyes.

 

“Did you check on Seo Ha-yoon’s artwork?”

 

She had spent her whole life shut away at home, painting. How many pieces had she created and offered up to contribute to Songhwa’s prosperity?

 

Moo-geon’s lips twisted with irritation.

 

“There are no paintings displayed under Seo Ha-yoon’s name at the gallery.”

 

“Not a single one?”

 

“None. We searched through all past sales records as well, but found nothing.”

 

“How many of her paintings were found in Seo Myung-sik’s house?”

 

“None that were fully completed.”

 

So every painting she created had been sold. Yet there were no paintings exhibited in the gallery, nor any sales records.

 

Even if they were used as slush funds, there was no reason to conduct a transaction without records. Especially with nameless paintings.

 

“So Seo Ha-yoon wasn’t selling paintings under her own name.”

 

Moo-geon coolly dissected the situation, his expression remaining impassive. The deeper the silence stretched, the colder his gaze became.

 

For a moment, an image flashed through his mind—a drawing of himself on a scrap of tissue paper. So detailed and extraordinarily realistic that it was hard to believe it was merely sketched on tissue.

 

And yet, despite possessing such exceptional skill, she had abandoned her name? Why did that thought irritate him so much?

 

She was no different from Seo Myung-sik. She had gone ahead and pulled off something just as damnable, hadn’t she, Seo Ha-yoon?

 

Pretending to be ignorant of the ways of the world, acting all innocent, yet violating the law. And at the core of it, playing a key role in forming a slush fund. His cold gaze landed on the pristine snowflakes outside the window.