Page 103 of The Way Back Home

I growl and my hands close around his waist as I flip him.

Seyeon hits the mat on his back and the breath rushes out of him, his hair fanning across the pillow, his eyes wide and bright with surprise. I rise over him, one hand planted beside his head, and look down at his face. His lips are swollen from kissing, slick and parted, his cheeks flushed, his chest heaving. He looks disheveled and smug about it at the same time and I want to eat him alive.

“You’re such a tease,” I rasp, my voice winded and shot to hell. “You know that, Heo Seyeon?”

His mouth curves. That grin. Half dare, half invitation. The one that says what are you going to do about it? His eyes glitter up at me and his chin lifts, the faintest tilt. A challenge. Always a fucking challenge with him.

I grip his thighs. Shove them apart. His knees fall wide and I settle between them, wrap my fingers around my cock and line the head up against his hole. I can feel the heat of him before I’ve pushed in, the twitch of his rim against my tip, swollen and tender and still giving for me.

I keep my eyes on his face. Don’t look away, don’t blink as I push in.

Seyeon’s head snaps back against the pillow. His throat stretches, tendons pulling tight, his lips peeling apart on a gasp. His cheeks bloom with bright pink, the flush spilling down his neck, across the tops of his shoulders. I can see his jaw clench, the muscles flexing, his teeth grinding together through the stretch. His fingers twist in the blankets at his sides.

I sink deeper. His body resists and then yields, opening around me in pulses, I watch the pain move across his features. The crease between his brows, the tight press of his lips, the way his nostrils flare as he forces himself to breathe through it. Then it shifts. His mouth falls open. His jaw unclenches. His brow smooths and his eyes go unfocused, glazed, his pupils blown wide as the stretch eases.

I thrust forward. Past the last of the resistance, burying myself as far as his body will allow, until my hips press flush against the backs of his thighs and there’s nowhere deeper to go.

My arms shake.

He’s so tight around me it’s almost unbearable, the clench of his inner walls like a fist, squeezing, gripping. Heat unlike anything else on this earth, slick and alive and pulling at me. I can feel every twitch of his muscles, every involuntary flutter, his body adjusting to the invasion, making room for me and then clamping down as if trying to keep me there. My cock throbs inside him, pulsing, my own heartbeat through the length of it where it’s buried in him.

It’s paradise. It’s maddening. It’s the closest I’ve ever been to losing my mind.

I bury my face in his neck.

My hips start moving istinctively, pulling back and pushing in. I breathe him in as I move. Soap and rain and the salt of his skin, the warm musk beneath, the scent I could find in the dark. My mouth opens against his throat and I taste him, tongue dragging over his pulse point, his heartbeat against my lips. My cock throbs as it slides in, slides out, the drag of his walls around me sending sparks up my spine with each stroke. Every time I push back in his body grips me, clenches, like he’s trying to pull me deeper. Like his body is trying to swallow me whole.

I stop holding back.

My hips snap forward and Seyeon cries out, his hands flying to my shoulders, fingers digging in. I grip his hip with one hand, fingers pressing into the bone, the other tangling in his hair, fisting in the damp brown strands and tilting his head back as my mouth finds his. I kiss him with every ounce of the crazed, starving need that’s been building in me all day. All week. All decade. My tongue pushes into his mouth and I swallow the sounds he makes, taste his moans against my lips. His tongue strokes back against mine, messy, desperate, his teeth scrape my bottom lip and I groan and slam into him harder.

I want to drink him in. Want to lose myself inside the haven of his body where there’s no past, no pain, no years of silence. Where there’s only heat and skin and the sound of his voice saying my name. My hands move down his sides, feel the muscles of his waist flex under my palms, slide lower and cup his ass, grip the flesh and haul his hips up off the mat. The angle changes and Seyeon shouts into my mouth as my cock drags across his prostate.

His nails score down my shoulder blades. Lines of bright stinging pain that make my skin light up and my balls tighten and my cock swell inside him. I chase that angle, slamming in again and again, feeling the head of my cock stroke that spot with every thrust, Seyeon is falling apart beneath me, his moans pitching higher, spilling out uncontrolled, his body writhing and arching and clenching so perfectly around me I can’t breathe.

I lick each sound from his lips. Catch his moans on my tongue, in my teeth, his criesagainst my mouth as I fuck him into the bedding. His legs wrap around my waist, heels digging into the small of my back, pulling me into him with each thrust, I can tell he’s getting close. His body tenses, his muscles locking up, his breathing becoming ragged and thin, each moan turns to gasping.

He tears his mouth from mine and his head throws back, his spine bowing, and he shouts. The hot pulse of his release spills between our stomachs, the slick heat of it smearing against my abs and his own trembling belly. His body clamps around me so viciously my eyesight spots with white, his inner walls contracting, squeezing, milking, gripping my cock in spasms that rip a snarl out of me.

“Fuck.” My teeth grit together. My arms tremble, hips stuttering. “Fuck, damn it, Seyeon. Too fucking good.” I gasp it against his jaw, his cheek, the damp skin below his ear. “You feel too fucking good.”

His body pulses around me again, another wave, and my restraint shatters. The coil at the base of my spine snaps and I groan low in my throat as I come. Pleasure tears through me. My cock swells and empties inside him, hot and deep, filling him up, my hips jerking in helpless thrusts as each wave hits me and I spill more. I’m shaking. Every muscle in my body tight and trembling as I press into him as far as I can go and hold there, buried, pulsing, pumping him full of me.

I pull him against me. Hard. Both arms wrapping around him, crushing his body to mine, his release smeared between our stomachs. My mouth finds his jaw and I kiss him there, a sloppy, graceless press of lips, then his cheek, the corner of his eye, anywhere I can reach. His fingers loosen on my shoulder blades, going from clawing to just resting there, palms flat against the stinging marks he left, warm against the damage.

His chest rises and falls against mine. I can feel his heartbeat through his ribs, hammering, gradually slowing.

I press my face against the side of his neck and stay there. Close my eyes. Breathe in the smell of his skin, of sweat and sex and soap and him. Feel the beat of his pulse against my lips. Feel his body soften around me, still holding me inside him, warm and full and claimed.

His fingers move in my hair. Slow, absent strokes along the back of my skull. Gentler than I deserve.

Lying there with my face buried in his neck, I think, with perfect clarity: I’m fucked. Royally fucked this time.

I’m falling in love with him all over again, and I have nowhere left to run.

Ryowoon

10 Years Old