Page 102 of The Way Back Home

I exhale through my nose. Hold his gaze.

“It’s for the best. This doesn’t lead anywhere good. We’re right where we were before.”

Seyeon nods slowly.

“Right,” he says. “But last time you never gave me the chance to change the ending. You took the choice away from me by running off. Didn’t give me the chance to come back and make you face me.”

He tilts his head, one eyebrow lifting, the look he gives me pins me to the mat.

“But you know? I’m real fucking tired of you running away, Ryowoon. Tired of you making all the decisions about what happens between us by yourself.” His voice drops. “I’m deciding this time.”

He moves forward and I think, move. Push him back. Get up. Walk out into the rain and keep going until the water swallows you because that’s what you do, that’s what you’re good at, you run. But my body won’t move. Won’t obey a single one of the frantic signals my brain is firing because Seyeon is climbing into my lap, his knees bracketing my hips, settling his weight onto my thighs, and his hands come up to grip my face. His palms are warm and still slightly damp from the shower and he holds me in place, tilts my head up to look at him.

The determination in his eyes so fierce it burns.

“I’m going to get my answers one way or another.”

Then his mouth covers mine and the last of the control I was holding onto collapses.

His tongue slides across my lower lip and I open for him, can’t not, my hands flying to his waist and gripping, pulling him closer, pulling him down harder against me. I kiss him back with greed, my fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt at his sides, breathing him in, tasting him, chasing the heat of his tongue. My cock is straining in my sweats, filling so fast the blood rush makes me lightheaded, and when Seyeon shifts his weight in my lap and brushes against me I groan into his mouth.

He reaches for my shirt. Tugs at the hem and I lift my arms because I can’t refuse him, can’t do a goddamn thing but comply as he pulls it over my head and tosses it. Then his own, my t-shirt that’s too big on him rising over his stomach, his chest, his shoulders, gone, and his bare torso is in front of me again, flushed warm from the shower. He pushes at my shoulders and I fall back, my back hitting the mat. He follows me down, his mouth finding mine again.

His hands go to the waistband of my sweats, pulling. I lift my hips and he drags them down, kicks them off my ankles, then peels off his own. When he settles back over me we’re both bare and his skin against mine sends a current through me.

I watch him. Can’t do anything else. Can’t look away as Seyeon brings his hand to his mouth, takes his index and middle finger between his lips and wets them, his tongue sliding over the pads, saliva glistening on his fingertips when he pulls them free.

I reach for him. “You don’t have to…”

He ignores me. Rises up on his knees, one hand braced on my chest for balance, the other reaching behind him. His fingers find his hole and his head tips back, the line of his throat arching long, his lips parting on a soft gasp. His eyes flutter shut and his brows pull together and I think, shit.

Shit, he’s so beautiful.

My body moves without permission. I lean forward, my mouth finding the warm column of his throat, pressing open-mouthed kisses to his pulse point as he works his fingers into himself. His skin tastes like soap and salt and I mouth up the side of his neck, feeling his sounds against my lips. Sinful little moans that slip out of him with each push of his fingers, his body rocking subtly on his knees above me, his free hand curling into a fist on my chest.

I’m so hard it hurts. The tip of my cock is wet, smearing against my own stomach where it’s pressed between us, every shift of Seyeon’s body above me sending jolts of sensation through me that make my jaw clench. I press my mouth to the hinge of his jaw, the hollow below his ear, let my teeth graze, feel him shudder.

I catch his mouth. He kisses me back messily, distracted, his focus split between my tongue and his fingers. The small gasps and half-voiced moans against my lips are driving me out of my mind. I grip his arms, feeling the muscles flex as he moves behind himself, and pull back just far enough to breathe.

Seyeon slips his fingers free with a wet sound that makes my cock throb. His eyes open, hooded, hazy with want, the brown nearly swallowed up. He looks at me and I can see every bit of what he’s feeling on his face. Not guarding a thing.

He takes my hand.

Lifts it to his mouth.

My lungs empty as Seyeon draws two of my fingers between his lips. The heat of his mouth closes around them, wet and soft, and his tongue slides over the pads, curling around them, sucking gently. His eyes hold mine the whole time and the sight of him with my fingers in his mouth, cheeks hollowed, lips stretched around my knuckles, is so fucking gorgeous that my cock kicks between my legs and a helpless sound slips out of my throat.

He pulls my hand free slowly, a string of spit catching between my fingertips and his bottom lip. Then he guides my hand down between his thighs. Seyeon shifts, spreading his knees wider over my lap, and presses my fingers against his entrance.

“Feel how ready I am.”

He pushes my fingers inside.

I groan, my free hand gripping his hip as his body takes me in. He’s open, slick from his own prep, and so hot inside that I have to close my eyes and breathe. His body clenches around my fingers, tight, pulsing, and I feel the heat of him, the way his muscles flutter and grip. Seyeon’s breath shakes as he pushes my hand deeper, his head dropping forward, forehead nearly touching mine. His mouth is open, his breaths coming in short, warm puffs against my lips.

“Ryowoon.” The way he says my name goes through me like a blade. “Feel me.”

I curl my fingers and he gasps, his back arching, his nails biting into my wrist where he’s still gripping it. I watch his face, every micro-expression, the way his brows draw up, the way his lips tremble, the way his eyelids struggle to stay open because he wants to keep looking at me even as his body shakes. I press deeper, crook my fingers and find the spot that makes him jerk and cry out, his body clamps around me, a vise of wet heat.