The villa lights glowed low, soft amber casting long shadows across polished wood floors. The air was thick with summer—crickets outside, the lingering spice of soju in their mouths, the warmth of dinner still curling in their bellies.
As Joon-ho locked the door behind them, Harin turned and reached for his hand.
"You shower first," she said, eyes sparkling. "I need five minutes to… set the mood."
He studied her for a beat.
"Harin…"
She rose on tiptoe and kissed the corner of his mouth. "Just go. Trust me."
That smile—playful, certain, impossible to say no to—stayed with him even after the water steamed over his skin.
By the time he emerged from the bathroom, towel-dried and calm in a soft white shirt and black boxer briefs, the living room had changed.
The lights were dimmed to a golden hue. The Bluetooth speaker played low piano jazz. A tray of snacks sat waiting: crisp seaweed chips, almond-stuffed dates, small bowls of tteok and dark chocolate. Two shot glasses of soju gleamed side by side.
And then—
Click.
The bedroom door opened.
Harin stepped out barefoot, hair still damp from the shower, loosely tucked behind her ears. She wore one of his shirts—oversized, pale, soft cotton that skimmed her thighs and slipped off one shoulder.
But what caught him, what truly stole his breath, was the flash of red lace beneath. Bold. Bright. Barely concealed. The curve of her thigh, the faint shimmer of her chest. A glimpse of lingerie chosen with intent.
His throat went dry.
She walked toward him casually, smiling like she hadn't just lit his entire body on fire.
"Took you long enough," she teased, slipping onto the couch beside him and reaching for a shot.
He passed it to her silently.
"To dangerous choices," she said.
"To trusting the right ones," he murmured.
They drank. The silence that followed wasn't awkward—it pulsed. Tension wrapped in fondness.
She leaned into his shoulder. "It's quiet here."
"That's what you said you needed."
"I lied," she said. "I needed you."
Joon-ho turned slowly to face her, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek. His palm lingered at her jaw.
She looked up at him, eyes calm and bright. "Is this okay?"
He nodded once. "Yes. If you want it."
"I do."
Their lips met in a kiss that started sweet—warm, exploring, careful—but deepened fast. Her hands curled around his collar, pulling him closer. His palm slid beneath the hem of his shirt—her shirt now—and cupped the bare skin of her waist.
She didn't shy away. She arched into it.
"Touch me properly," she whispered against his mouth.
His hand slid up.
Red lace. Heat. The full weight of her breast filled his palm, and when his thumb found her nipple, she gasped into his kiss.
"You're beautiful," he murmured, fingers brushing the delicate edge of the cup. "And so ready."
She laughed softly, confidence sparking in her voice. "You think I wore this just for laughs?"
He chuckled under his breath and kissed her again, slower now, savoring the way she melted.
Her hand found the line of his thigh. Traced it up.
He was already hard. Waiting. Her palm pressed over his cock through the fabric, and she moaned quietly, pleased.
"I love that you stay so calm," she said, stroking him gently. "Like you already know what you'll do to me."
"I don't have to guess," he said softly. "I listen."
He slipped her shirt off her shoulders.
The lingerie was exquisite. Red silk and sheer lace, hugging every inch of her. The fabric clung to her breasts, the swell of her hips, the softness of her inner thighs. She glowed.
His breath caught.
"You're breathtaking," he said.
She grinned. "Now you're just saying that because I'm half-naked."
"I was thinking it when you were fully clothed."
She leaned into his lap, kissed him again—and he rose.
She yelped, laughing as he lifted her effortlessly into his arms.
"Wait—what are you doing?"
"Carrying you."
"I can walk, you know."
"I know. But I want to remember the way you look right now. The way you feel."
She blushed—but didn't argue.
Her legs wrapped around his waist, arms tight around his neck. She buried her face in his shoulder, and he felt her lips curve into a smile.
The bedroom was cooler, the sheets freshly turned down. He laid her down gently, brushing her damp hair from her face.
She looked up at him, lips parted.
"Are you going to take me slow, or ruin me sweetly?"
He smiled.
"Yes."