TIOAWN Chapter 43

“Painting is easy for you, Seo Ha-yoon.”  

 

I’m talking about you here, not anyone else. 

 

Now that he thinks about it, wasn’t he referring to Seo Ha-yoon all along?  

 

He had momentarily pushed aside that ridiculous yet strangely endearing way she was overly conscious of Doctor Yang.  

 

“Everything is easy for you. Isn’t that right?”  

 

Moo-geon didn’t wait for a response. He lifted his upper body slightly and flipped Ha-yoon over in one swift motion. As he pressed his weight down, her chest was forced flush against the wall, leaving no space between them.  

 

“Ah, ngh.”  

 

Before she could react, Moo-geon’s lips latched onto the back of her neck. A wet, sucking sound echoed through the bathroom, mingling with the damp rustling of her soaked clothes as they bunched up messily.  

 

Without even bothering to unbutton her shirt, he grabbed it by the hem and yanked it upward, stripping it off in one motion.  

 

“Cha, hngh, Moo-geon.”  

 

Stop.  

 

As if she didn’t want it, Ha-yoon turned her face against the wall, reaching back to push him away.  

 

Her slippery hand brushed against his waistband before accidentally gripping his firm hip. Realizing she had inadvertently pulled him closer, Ha-yoon’s face burned red, and she quickly withdrew her hand.  

 

Moo-geon scoffed at her reaction, grabbed her arm, and yanked her back. Her waist arched, and her upper body bent backward as if collapsing into him. The final destination was the nape of his neck.  

 

“Hngh, ha.”  

 

As her heated breaths came in ragged gasps, he suddenly pulled her head toward him and devoured her lips. It was an openly rough kiss—fierce, obsessive, and relentless.  

 

That woman’s face still lingered in her mind. The confident, composed expression. The voice that carried itself like she was the mistress of the house.  

 

She should push him away. She should tell him to leave. But she was afraid—afraid that if she did, he really would go.  

 

At first, Ha-yoon hesitated, passively retreating her tongue. But gradually, she became more assertive, twisting her tongue as he did, exploring the empty spaces, scraping against the firm ridges of his mouth.  

 

At that, Moo-geon let out a laugh, one that was so clear even she could feel it. Then, he turned aggressive again.  

 

Their saliva mixed messily, skin clinging together with an obscene stickiness. As their damp bodies rubbed against each other, Moo-geon unfastened his belt with one hand.  

 

The rigid pressure pressing against her from behind sent heat spreading through her body. It felt like scalding water had been poured onto her, making moisture spill forth in an uncontrollable rush.  

 

Moo-geon, as if he had been waiting for this moment, bent one of his knees and pressed his lips against her entrance. His hands roamed her slender waist, teasingly tracing around her navel, while his tongue delved into the yet-hidden bud.  

 

“Ha, ugh. Hngh.”  

 

As Ha-yoon’s legs gave out, Moo-geon gripped her hips firmly with both hands. Keeping them spread apart, he licked hungrily, making her bury her face against the wall in embarrassment.  

 

“Ngh, ah, ah.”  

 

“Life must be easy for you since everything comes so easily, Seo Ha-yoon.”  

 

He muttered against her entrance, making her tremble violently.  

 

“Ha, ah. That’s—ah—stop, hngh.”  

 

His long tongue thrust in deeply, exploring her as if on a conquest, while his lips nibbled and tugged at the entrance without inflicting pain.  

 

“It’s not… hngh… don’t… ah… ngh.”  

 

Stop.  

 

Ha-yoon whimpered, her palms scrambling against the bathroom wall.  

 

Whenever she barely managed to hold herself together, Moo-geon would swirl his tongue mercilessly, sucking away any resistance she had left.  

 

As her stiffened nipples dragged against the cold, wet wall, a clear, honeyed fluid trickled down. Moo-geon slipped his hand to her lower belly, pulling her into his arms.  

 

“Ha, Moo—what were you doing out there, hngh?”  

 

It felt as if molten lava had been poured into her, making her tongue numb and her vision blur. She was so breathless she couldn’t even finish her sentence. Her gasping breaths hitched when his thick fingers abruptly invaded her.  

 

“Why?”  

 

His deep voice clung to her feverish back, pressing against her chest.  

 

“Did you think I was doing something like this?”  

 

His lips, now climbing up her nape, tangled in her hair, roaming persistently as if burrowing through her locks.  

 

He smeared saliva over her skin, tugged her hair while pressing his lips against hers, and grazed his tongue over her scalp, nibbling at her earlobe before finally settling on her cheek.  

 

At the same time, the fingers inside her pressed against her inner walls, making their presence known with deliberate movements. He spread them apart like scissors, stretching her in an elegant yet brutal manner.  

 

“Th-this, ah, this kind of thing?”  

 

Ha-yoon’s focus blurred, her gaze sweeping over Moo-geon’s face.  

 

His disheveled hair, his forehead glistening with sweat, his pupils dark with desire.  

 

The urgency in his touch stirred something in her, melting her body as if she were standing under the scorching sun.  

 

Moo-geon cupped her face, stilling her movements, and crushed his lips against hers. His smooth tongue roamed inside her mouth, matching the rhythm of his fingers moving in and out of her rapidly.  

 

“Ah, hngh.”  

 

Her trembling legs barely held her up. In the end, she collapsed, resting her forehead against his shoulder.  

 

One might have expected him to console or soothe her. Instead, Moo-geon withdrew his fingers and pressed his palm against her most sensitive spot, rubbing it swiftly. The overwhelming stimulation made her body convulse.  

 

Just as her gasping breaths weakened, his large hand glided up her stomach, kneading her breast and pinching her nipple.  

 

“Hngh, ha, ah.”  

 

He covered one breast with his palm while pressing her down with his upper body.  

 

His leaking tip dragged against her, teasingly aligning with her entrance. As if relishing the anticipation, he circled the head, slowly widening the point of intrusion.  

 

An indescribable sensation crashed over her in waves. One eyebrow twitched as her lower abdomen tensed up.  

 

Why does she always take me in so perfectly?

 

“Haa.”  

 

The overwhelming sensation made Moo-geon exhale sharply. The humid heat radiated between her tangled strands of hair.  

 

With a long sigh, he braced himself and pushed forward.  

 

A muffled curse slipped through his gritted teeth as he barely managed to press inside.  

 

“Ah— Hng.”  

 

Ha-yoon raised her heels and clenched her buttocks tightly. At the same time, her entrance, which had barely allowed entry, clenched shut as if squeezing. It felt like trying to push a finger into a balloon whose opening was tightly sealed.  

 

“Fuck.”  

 

A raw, unfiltered curse burst out.  

 

Seo Ha-yoon’s vaginal opening was as small as her petite frame. It was no wonder she struggled to take him in. Knowing this, he had carefully loosened and stretched her open, but—  

 

Foreplay proved futile as the stimulation was too intense. His cock felt bound at the root, his balls tingling sharply. The veins in his neck bulged, and his grip on her chest tightened forcefully.  

 

“Ah, hah, hng.”  

 

Even as her own entrance squeezed him like a vise, she whimpered about her chest aching as if about to burst.  

 

Moo-geon curled one lip in irritation and kneaded her breasts soothingly. When he rubbed his leaking erection against the cold bathroom wall, Ha-yoon’s arm twitched with a scrape.  

 

“Relax, Seo Ha-yoon.”  

 

The stimulation was so intense his penis had hardened like stone. The rigidity was excessive. The glans swelled tautly, straining to fill the stretched space, making even shallow thrusts difficult.  

 

“I—hng, ahng—it’s too much.”  

 

“That’s why I said relax.”  

 

Moo-geon exhaled a ragged breath, brow furrowed.  

 

She never fucking listens, does she?

 

Sliding his hands down from her chest—over her stomach, navel, and clitoris—he gripped her hips and yanked them toward him, then thrust hard.  

 

“Ahng!”  

 

Ha-yoon nearly slammed her forehead forward. Instead of cushioning her head, Moo-geon pulled her hips closer.  

 

“Brace against the wall.”  

 

Push your hips back.

 

His low, commanding voice left no room for refusal.  

 

“Hngk, ngh—it’s too… much.”  

 

Ha-yoon gasped hoarsely, her words fragmented.  

 

“I won’t say it twice. Use your hands.”  

 

Or you’ll smash your head.

 

Moo-geon’s frown deepened. Should I give her a moment? But the moment he pulled back, her flushed flesh squelched, clinging tightly. The maddening friction threatened to make his cock explode before his patience snapped.  

 

Damn this shit. He couldn’t wait for her to steady herself. His resolve frayed like slick dripping down his thighs.  

 

Watching her slippery hands slide uselessly against the wall, Moo-geon sighed and pressed his torso against her back.  

 

This was supposed to keep her from slipping, but now I’m the one trapped.

 

Their merged body heat and synchronized breaths. The unfamiliar fullness made his cock swell unnaturally.  

 

Ha. Moo-geon scoffed bitterly against her shoulder blade.  

 

He wanted to cage her in his arms. Obsession pooled thickly between them.  

 

“Ah, haah…”  

 

Even as he anchored his legs, pinned her wrists to the wall, and thrust relentlessly, Ha-yoon unknowingly writhed her hips.  

 

As if fearing the warmth would escape. 

As if the melting sensation might vanish.  

 

Grinding his pelvis against her restless hips, he let out a low moan.