Page 90 of The Way Back Home

He reaches down. His fingers close around my cock and my spine arches, a hiss slipping through my clenched teeth. I’m already leaking, the head slick and swollen, so hard it’s painful, and the feeling of his callused hand wrapping around me and stroking sends a shock through my nervous system.

“Fuck,” I breathe, my head pressing back into the mattress.

Ryowoon watches me. I can see through the slits of my half-closed eyes the way his gaze takes in every reaction on my face, every twitch. His lips curve.

He leans forward, his face close to mine, his hand still moving on my cock slowly.

“Just how much experience do you have with men, Seyeonnie?”

His voice is low and gravelly, the sound skating up my spine. I hold his gaze. It takes me a second to find my voice with his fist working me like that, his thumb dragging over the slit on each upstroke, smearing the wetness.

“Enough.”

He arches a brow. “So you’ve bottomed before?”

I shake my head. “No.”

His grin widens slowly. He lets go of my cock and his hand travels lower, fingers trailing down behind my balls, skimming over the sensitive skin there until his fingertips brush against my hole. I shudder, my hips jumping.

“You mean to tell me you’re a virgin here?”

“S-stop that,” I say shakily. “I’m a top.”

Ryowoon laughs. “Not if you want to be with me, you’re not.”

I glare up at him, my lip curling. “You should at least offer the choice, you asshole.” I shove at his shoulder, my palm slipping on his wet skin.

Ryowoon tips his head to one side, his wet hair falling across his forehead. His grin softens but doesn’t disappear. His fingertips are still resting against me with a whisper of pressure.

“Is that a no, Seyeon?”

I bite my lip. The smart answer, the prideful answer, the answer that protects my dignity, sits on the tip of my tongue. But I can’t say it. I want this too badly. Want him too badly. It’s Ryowoon, and even if this is the only way I get to have him then there’s no option where I say no and walk out of this room.

I drop back against the bed and throw an arm over my eyes.

“Whatever. You win.”

His laughter shakes the mattress beneath me. Then his open mouth presses against my belly, his breath fanning over my skin as he trails lower. His lips drag over my hip bone, teeth grazing, and I shiver as he murmurs against my skin.

“No. We’re both going to enjoy this, Seyeon.”

I peek from under my arm as he reaches for the bedside table. His hand disappears into the drawer and comes back with a bottle of lube and a foil packet. My stomach flips. I swallow, my throat clicking, watching as he pops the cap and pours lube into his palm. His eyes come back to mine, holding, the grin is gone now, replaced by focus and hunger.

I jump when his hand returns between my legs, his slicked fingers spreading the lube over my hole, circling, the cool gel making me clench involuntarily. The sensation is new and foreign and sends sparks up through my pelvis.

“Don’t worry.” His voice drops and gentles, reassuring despite the way his eyes burn. “I know what I’m doing.”

Before I can respond he bends down, his other hand gripping the base of my cock, and takes me into his mouth.

“Fuck—”

My hands fist in the covers, my hips bucking up off the bed. His mouth is hot, so hot, his tongue pressing flat against the underside of my cock as he sinks down, and at the same time he pushes a finger into me.

The dual sensation makes my brain short-circuit. His finger is slick and careful, working past the first ring of resistance, sliding in to the knuckle while his mouth works my cock, his cheeks hollowing as he sucks. I groan, my head falling back. He bobs his head, taking me deeper, his tongue doing something wicked along the vein on the underside, his finger starts to move inside me, slowly, in and out, stretching, coaxing.

A second finger joins the first. The burn makes me hiss, but he times it with a swallow around my cock that takes him to the back of his throat and the pleasure drowns out everything else. My legs fall open wider, my feet sliding on the sheets. Ryowoon takes the invitation, pressing deeper, scissoring his fingers, working me open as he bobs and sucks and uses his tongue until I can’t tell pleasure and the stretch apart.

He crooks his fingers.