Chapter 87

Gye Do-hyeop had spent half of his disciplinary suspension in China. Whatever dirty dealings Gwak Chun-young was up to behind the scenes, it made little sense that the head of a mere trading company had managed to procure an A-grade jewel.

Only after tracking down and beating the living daylights out of the bastards lurking in underground hovels did he uncover the truth: Gwak Chun-young’s alpha father had worked as a jewel broker in China before dying several years ago. Moreover, while he was still alive, Gwak Chun-young had traveled to China to meet him. It was easy enough to deduce where that A-grade jewel in his possession had trickled in from. Bloodlines were a royal nuisance, no matter whose family it was.

“Put your hips down. I’m fucking you right now, so why the hell do you keep trying to pull away?”

“Ah, b-but… you said you wouldn’t… do it much today…”

“Yeah, right. I said I wouldn’t push in deep. Never said I wouldn’t do it a lot.”

“Ngh, ah…”

In other words, the fact that Geum Seoul—who loved him—could hardly conceive should have been a cause for celebration in every respect. The way he fit Gye Do-hyeop’s exacting conditions was downright chilling. It felt as though he had been born solely to become his. Gye Do-hyeop wanted to hold him in his arms and dote on him for the rest of his days.

Gye Do-hyeop shuddered at how painfully endearing Geum Seoul was, without the slightest intention of letting him go. There was already too much to take in. This person who made exceptions of everything, who kept overturning every rule in Do-hyeop’s life, was right now yearning for him, loving him, begging him to be his one and only alpha. Do-hyeop wanted to drown in that thick, simmering satisfaction. More so after spending an entire month parched and half-crazed in his absence.

‘You can’t go deep today.’

That was the plea Geum Seoul had made the moment Gye Do-hyeop unlocked the front door and stepped inside. When asked why, he had murmured that he wasn’t feeling well. Smoothing out his furrowed brow, Gye Do-hyeop had nodded without hesitation. Even without that excuse, the slender frame had been bothering him all along. From the start, Gye Do-hyeop had no desire to hurt someone so delicate.

There were countless ways to cherish Geum Seoul beyond deep penetration. So today, he decided to feast on him to his heart’s content. As if sensing that resolve, Geum Seoul—straddling Gye Do-hyeop’s face in reverse with his thighs spread wide—kept squirming his hips as though desperate to flee. Yet Gye Do-hyeop refused to let him go. Every inch of him was overwhelmingly precious. Just moments ago, he had blushed crimson, protesting that he couldn’t possibly assume such a posture, only to hesitate endlessly before timidly pushing his plump, compact bottom toward his face once Gye Do-hyeop drawled, I’m too fucking exhausted to get up right now, so who else is gonna eat out your tight little hole?

Squelch, squelch.

“Did you ever jerk off while I was gone?”

“Ngh… n-no…”

Smack.

He sank his fingers a little deeper into the entrance already dripping with saliva and slick, stirring the narrow inner walls. When his palm struck his backside in the same breath, Geum Seoul clamped down tight around the intruding digits.

“Ah!”

“Hey. Juice spatters every time I slap your ass.”

Geum Seoul’s buttocks flushed a vivid scarlet. Do your cheeks blush red when you’re embarrassed, too? At Gye Do-hyeop’s low chuckle, Geum Seoul whined softly and shook his head.

“What did you do if you didn’t even touch yourself? I jacked off every fucking night thinking about you.”

“R-really?”

“Does that make you happy?” Gye Do-hyeop chuckled. Twenty minutes had passed since Seoul broke down crying, yet tears still clung to his face, and his expression seemed to ask, Do you really get turned on by someone like me? Ah. When the hell is he going to fix that fucking habit? Do-hyeop gripped both thighs and hauled him closer, his tongue lapping wetly at the slick opening. Seoul having no idea how gorgeous he was could be amusing when he was right here, safely within reach. But if that ignorance meant devaluing himself before other people, Do-hyeop would gladly give up the entertainment. Geum Seoul had plenty of other lovely things about him. He didn’t need humility too.

“Haa, ah! Ah! Not that, ngh…!”

Flattening his tongue wide, he covered the tender, beautifully flushed pink folds, licking, sucking, and rubbing relentlessly. Geum Seoul poured every ounce of strength into keeping his trembling legs from giving out, shuddering violently in his unyielding grip. Stiffening the tip of his tongue as if to bore straight through, he delved into the entrance his fingers had loosened. Ah, ahhh. With a frail cry, Geum Seoul spasmed and came, thick spills of release spurting across the sheets.

“Mm. So you really didn’t touch yourself, huh?”

Pat, pat. Giving his backside a light tap, Gye Do-hyeop sat up and pressed Geum Seoul flat onto his stomach. Naturally, all the bite marks he had left behind weeks ago had completely vanished. Even intoxicated by Geum Seoul’s sweet confession and rich pheromones, a faint prickle of irritation was unavoidable.

“Geum Seoul. Was I the only one missing you? I was about to lose my fucking mind.”

Gye Do-hyeop scraped up the semen Geum Seoul had spilled with his forefinger, placed it on his tongue, and tasted it. At the same time, he drove his thumb into the reddened, pretty entrance that was already glistening and ready to take his cock, slowly rotating it to rub and stroke the inner walls. Curling his cute toes tightly as his upper body collapsed onto the mattress, Geum Seoul shook his head in a flurry.

“N-no, that’s not true. Ngh, really, it isn’t.”

“Then what?”

The nape of his neck burned red. Gye Do-hyeop had not released his pheromones. If a Geum Seoul melting drunkenly under an alpha’s scent was a soft peach, then a Geum Seoul ripening solely under physical pleasure was a firm one. Arching his lean back, he subtly pushed his hips backward—a clear sign of his burning impatience. Gye Do-hyeop took the pale cheeks in both hands, kneading them thoroughly. There was no way it hurt, yet Geum Seoul flinched with a shiver, clamping down around his finger.

“I… ngh, that’s why…”

“That’s why what?”

Gye Do-hyeop slowly drew his thumb out and pushed it back in, deliberately dragging out the question. Panting once or twice, Geum Seoul buried his forehead in the sheets, his breath catching as he struggled to find his voice.

“Your clothes, Deputy Director…”

“What about my clothes?”

Slender white fingers slipped out from the blanket he had been clutching, pointing shyly toward the head of the bed. Toward the pillow beside where Gye Do-hyeop had been lying just moments ago. Lifting it up, he found a neatly folded shirt tucked beneath. The smile on Gye Do-hyeop’s face deepened. His mouth watered at the sheer, unbearable sweetness.

“Ah. You slept hugging that?”

“Ngh… yes. Because I missed you… so much…”

“And yet you didn’t jerk off once?”

And you expect me to buy that? Though he feigned a scoff, Gye Do-hyeop was thoroughly savoring the sight, tracing every inch of Geum Seoul from his shoulders down to his lower back. Instead of pulling his thumb out, he curled the knuckle to spread the rim wider, brushing the swollen head of his cock against the weeping folds. A strained whimper broke from Geum Seoul’s lips.

“…fraid it would.”

“Can’t hear you.”

Geum Seoul’s voice remained muffled by the bedding. Pretending it was an accident, Gye Do-hyeop pressed the tip of his cock against the perineum, prompting him to lift his chin slightly.

“Your scent. I was scared your scent… would fade away too quickly.”

“…”

Gye Do-hyeop narrowed one eye. The other had held back from touching himself because he feared the pheromones released during arousal would wash out the scent clinging to the shirt.

Ah.

Gye Do-hyeop wondered if he had ever received such noble, untainted devotion in all his life. Never. He didn’t even need to think twice. With a heart as pure and white as his porcelain skin, Geum Seoul revered a man who did nothing but spew foul curses and eat out his cunt every single day as though he were sacred.

He was scorching in every single instant, while Gye Do-hyeop was perpetually cold-blooded. Despite existing in completely opposite ecosystems, Geum Seoul pulled him into his own lane, as if intending to melt away the inherent baseness of Gye Do-hyeop’s nature with his own incandescent fever.

“Ah! Ngh, ahh…”

Swallowing a dry laugh tangled with a curse of admiration, Gye Do-hyeop breached his endlessly beloved lover. Even as Geum Seoul buried his face in the mattress from the overwhelming fullness, he didn’t push him away; instead, he panted and lifted his hips higher, trying to loosen his tight heat. It was not an intrusion, but complete surrender.

Gye Do-hyeop clenched his molars. As the impossibly tight inner walls clamped around half of his shaft, transferring a searing heat that felt ready to scald him, reality finally set in. Tilting his chin up, Gye Do-hyeop closed his eyes and let out a low, breathy groan.

The problem was how to bind Geum Seoul completely, how to make him his in a way that could not be peeled away. Tearing off his flesh and swallowing it down was useless; he could only do that once. In that case, what was left but to plant his child inside him? Gye Do-hyeop, a man who had spent his life despising the very idea of family, sneered at himself for arriving at such an absurdly simple answer.

Yet Geum Seoul’s body was incapable of pregnancy. When a doctor like Oh Ga-on said conception was ‘difficult,’ it really meant impossible. They always couched it in euphemisms like that. Just moments ago, Gye Do-hyeop had celebrated that very fact as making him the perfect partner; finding it infuriating now that he had no way to shackle him tighter made him scoff at his own ridiculousness. It was a fickle contradiction born purely of Geum Seoul.

“Hic… ngh, how… how much…?”

“Not even half. Ah, you’re so fucking tight it won’t go in.”

Having pushed only a third of the way in, he rocked his hips gently. Why the fuck are you built so small everywhere? With each incremental thrust deeper, Geum Seoul’s waist trembled as he bit down on a handful of the bedsheet. Gye Do-hyeop snatched the shirt from under the pillow and tossed it beside Geum Seoul’s huddled head. Clever as always, Geum Seoul caught his meaning at once. Letting go of the sheet that reeked of detergent, he clamped his teeth onto Gye Do-hyeop’s shirt instead. Acting just like you belong to me. Gye Do-hyeop locked his hands onto Geum Seoul’s hips, his dark gaze darkening further.

Gritting his teeth hard, he pressed deeper inside. As if lined with writhing tendrils, the dense folds welcomed their master, clenching fiercely around him. Ah, fuck. Unable to hold back any longer, Gye Do-hyeop drove his hips forward. Yet one of his hands remained clamped firmly around the midpoint of his shaft—ensuring, as promised, that he wouldn’t sink in all the way.

Drenched in sweat, Geum Seoul wept as he collapsed under him. He was achingly glad to have Gye Do-hyeop back. Even his rough reply telling him to love him even more had filled his chest. Being able to see his face and breathe in his scent instead of trading numbers every night was pure bliss, even if unsaid words still lingered awkwardly on the tip of his tongue. But he simply couldn’t endure this relentless pounding.

“Ngh, I can’t… take any… ah! Ahh…!”

“We’ve only done it twice.”

Geum Seoul wasn’t melting from pheromones, but from the man’s natural scent, his touch, and his overwhelming strength. When Gye Do-hyeop persistently licked at his armpit, Geum Seoul shook his head weakly. Once Gye Do-hyeop was inside, he refused to pull back. He kept thrusting as if he would never stop, urging him to show some stamina by reminding him that he had taken a cock swollen nearly twice its size during his heat. Overwhelmed, Geum Seoul could only burst into fresh tears, exposing his belly like a helpless creature and crying surrender.