Cheon Areum bit down on his lips once more, bracing for Yoon Seoyul to become even faster—fueled by the 'alluring' pheromones he'd taken in so willingly. But Yoon Seoyul's technique shifted unexpectedly. Instead of ramming with unabating force against the swollen spot, he began to pull nearly the entire length out, only to plug it back in with profound depth, lingering in that position accidentally on purpose, with a newfound restraint. It felt akin to performing a split with trembling, shivering legs—forced to hold the agonizing pose despite the unbearable strain rippling through his core.
Unable to endure any longer, Cheon Areum tapped out, his trembling hand patting Yoon Seoyul's back—the same hand that had muffled his cries. He came in a shuddering rush just as Yoon Seoyul chose to pull out again, leaving behind a fleeting black-hole. Yoon Seoyul eased back, yet maintained an unshakable grip on Cheon Areum's right hand, applying straining pressure, refusing to let go.
