Page 25 of From Paris to Seoul

“Oh—no, no, go back to sleep. You can move back to your bed if you want,” I whispered, not wanting to disturb him more.

But instead of lying back down, he stood up and followed me to the door. Still half-asleep, he miscalculated the space, bumping his knee against the corner of the table with a quiet curse.

As he reached out to open the door, his arm brushed against my back. The narrow hallway between the room and the entrance felt even smaller now.

Our eyes met, and in that moment, I was back in the alleyway of Paris where we got high. My gaze drifted to his lips, wondering how they would taste.

As if he could read my mind, a flicker of desire flashed in his eyes before he leaned in, his lips brushing against mine in a chaste kiss, sending a spark racing through my veins.

It started as the softest pressure, so light it felt like the whisper of a feather. Then, he deepened the kiss, claiming my lips with growing intensity.

The world around us faded, leaving only the warmth of his body, the taste of him, the way our tongues moved together—curious, searching, desperate. My heart pounded as he pressed closer, his touch awakening something raw and unspoken between us.

His hands roamed over my body, seeking more, and instinctively, mine mirrored his. The winter chill melted away, replaced by the fire building deep within me. The contrast of his cold fingers against my skin sent sent a shiver of pleasure through me, intensifying every sensation.

Our breaths came in sharp, uneven gasps as he trailed his lips down my neck, his tongue teasing against sensitive skin. A quiet moan slipped from my lips as he lifted my shirt, his fingers expertly unclasping my bra, melting me with every touch.

One of his hands traced over my breast, his fingers expertly teasing—twisting, circling—sending a rush of heat flooding through me.

Then, just as suddenly as it began, he stopped. His touch disappeared, leaving my body aching for more. He lifted his gaze to mine, his dark eyes searching, his chest rising and falling with uneven breaths.

“Seo-yeon…” he murmured between breaths, his voice low and uneven. “If you want me to stop, you need to say it now.”

A breath hitched in my throat. My body screamed for his touch, for the fire he had ignited within me.

“I want this…” The words slipped out, barely more than a whisper, but I meant them with every fiber of my being.

That was all the approval he needed.

His breath grew harsher, thick with desire, as his other hand slipped beneath my underwear, finding my core. His fingers explored, teasing, drawing tight circles, seeking entrance.

Clothes scattered to the floor as we tumbled onto the sofa bed—an unexpected perk of being in such a tiny room. His lips trailed down my body, and when he took my nipple into his mouth, alternating between his lips, tongue, and teeth, a cry tore from my throat. I swore I almost came right then and there.

The sound that slipped from my lips must have roused him, as he lifted his head to meet mine, a wicked smile playing at his mouth.

“I bet you taste sweet… like a peach, maybe,” he whispered in my ear, sending a tingling sensation all over my body. “But I won’t taste you yet. I need to be inside you. Now.”

His hand caressed the soft heat of my core, stroking gently, finding exactly where it felt best. And I knew—I needed him deep inside me too. Now.

He tore open a pack of condoms, rolled one on, and pushed in slowly, filling me completely before pulling back. Then, he thrust forward again—hard and fast.

I gasped at the sensation, at the fullness stretching deep within me, and whimpered. My body arched against his, my hands roaming over his back, desperate for more.

He growled in response, one hand pinning mine above my head, holding me still. With no choice but to surrender, I let him take control, his free hand resuming its teasing, torturous caresses.

“Good girl,” he murmured wickedly as our hips pressed together repeatedly, our skin melding, while his hands continued to tease the tender mound of my core as he entered me.

Our lips clashed, tongues tangling as we chased the edge together. I wanted all of him—the faint taste of cigarettes on his lips, the subtle hint of woody perfume, the masculine scent of his skin, and the way my body molded perfectly against his toned frame.

It felt raw. Primal. Like a force had taken over my body and mind, leaving me incapable of thought—only able to feel the delicious, overwhelming sensations coursing through me.

I had never wanted anything so badly, never felt so untamed, so sexy, so deeply desired.

“Baekhyun…” I exclaimed, teetering on the edge of climax. Watching him move, seeing the length of him entering me, felt perversely intoxicating… like something forbidden—only heightening the pleasure surging through me.

And as his movements grew faster and deeper, my nails dug into his shoulders, my muscles tightening around his length. A scream tore from my lips as I reached my release.

The sensation of my body tightening around him must have triggered his own climax. He moaned, surrendering to the pleasure, his body shuddering before finally going still. A few seconds passed, and I felt his weight relax as he lay on top of me.