Yurin moved behind Joon-ho, her arms wrapping around his waist, her body pressing against his back. She could feel the heat radiating from him, the tension in his muscles, the barely contained need. Her hands found the ties of his mask, working them loose with practiced fingers.
"Let me see you," she whispered, and the mask slipped away, revealing his face.
Joon-ho turned slightly, his eyes finding hers, and then he was kissing her, his mouth claiming hers with a hunger that matched her own. The kiss was deep, his tongue exploring her mouth, his hands tangling in her hair. Yurin melted against him, her body responding to his touch, her nipples hardening against the sheer fabric of her bra.
She pulled back slightly, her breath coming faster, and her hands slid down his body, tracing the defined muscles of his chest, the ridges of his abs, until they found the waistband of his boxer briefs. She tugged them down, slowly, deliberately, watching as his cock was revealed inch by inch.
