I picked up the condom from the sheet beside us and held it up. She looked at it, then took it from with fingers that only shook slightly, tearing the wrapper with the focused expression she brought to everything, like even this was a task to execute correctly.
"You’re thinking very hard," I said.
"I’m concentrating."
"I noticed."
"Be quiet, Ro."
I pressed my lips together and watched her work.
The drain sat warm and constant between us, registering every point of contact, every shift of her weight. Her Essentia tasted like it always did, sharp and electric and sweet underneath. But there was sothing else in it now, sothing that hadn’t been present in the classroom or the storage room. Sothing softer.
She finished and looked at . Her grey eyes were dark, her hair a complete loss cause at this point, and she’d never looked less like the class representative and more like herself.
"I changed my mind," she said.
My stomach dropped exactly one inch.
"About what," I said carefully.
"About running." She settled her weight forward, her hands braced on my chest. "I’m not going to."
Oh.
That’s what she ant.
The stomach did not return to its original position.
This was new data and I didn’t have anywhere to file it yet, which was fine, I’d deal with it later, much later, specifically at any point in the future when Cheon Hae-Won was not sitting on my lap looking at like I was the answer to a question she’d been running calculations on for years.
"Good," I said.
She rolled her hips forward experintally, found the angle, and sank down slowly.
Her breath left her in one long unsteady exhale. Her fingers curled against my chest. The drain spiked hard, her Essentia flooding the channel all at once, that electric current running bright and imdiate up my spine.
I kept very still, letting her set the pace, letting her find her footing in this particular territory.
Her eyes stayed on mine the whole ti.
That was new too. In my experience, people looked away, looked at the ceiling or the middle distance, sowhere that wasn’t a person’s face, sowhere that allowed the fiction of privacy inside intimacy. Cheon didn’t look away. She watched with those grey analytical eyes like she was collecting data in real ti, logging every response, filing everything away for later review.
It should have been clinical.
It wasn’t.
"Ro," she said.
"Still here."
"I know," she said, and started moving.
I put my hands behind my head and settled back against the pillows.
Cheon blinked at , her breathing already unsteady, her thighs trembling against my hips.
"What are you doing," she managed.
"Giving you space to work."
Her eyes narrowed. The class representative was still in there sowhere, cataloging that comnt as insubordination and filing it away for later.
Then she tried to move and all of that disappeared.
Her breath caught. Her hands pressed flat against my chest, nails digging in slightly through the skin. She lifted herself maybe an inch before her legs shook hard enough that she had to stop, sinking back down with a small desperate sound that she tried to bite back behind her teeth.
Too late. I’d heard it.
She tried again. Sa result. Her thighs were trembling visibly now, her whole body tense with the effort of trying to find a rhythm that her body wasn’t ready to support yet.
She bit her lip hard enough that I thought she might draw blood.
Fuck, she was cute.
The drain was running hot between us, her Essentia pouring through in sharp bright bursts every ti she moved, every ti her body adjusted to the stretch. Mine pushed back in the sa rhythm, completing that circuit, and I could feel the exact mont each wave hit her nervous system because her eyes went unfocused and her breathing hitched.
She was trying. I’d give her that. The sa way she tried at everything, with her whole attention and her complete focus and absolutely no idea how to let herself fall apart.
Her hair stuck to her forehead. Her perfect posture had collapsed into sothing much more honest. She leaned forward, bracing her weight on my chest, and tried to roll her hips the way she’d seen in whatever educational material the internet had provided.
It wasn’t working.
Not because she was bad at it. Because she was barely a minute past being a virgin and I was not small and her body needed ti she wasn’t giving it.
"Hae-Won," I said.
"I can do this," she gasped. "Just give a second."
"I know you can."
"Then stop looking at like that."
"Like what."
"Like you’re laughing."
I wasn’t laughing. I was watching her with the sa attention she usually brought to her color-coded planner, logging every response, every sound, every shift in her expression.
She moved again, lifting herself higher this ti, and her legs gave out halfway down.
She collapsed forward onto my chest with a sound that was half moan and half frustration, her mouth ending up right next to my ear, her breathing ragged and uneven against my skin.
Her breasts pressed flat against , soft and warm and perfect.
"I hate you," she whispered, but it ca out shaky and uncertain and completely unconvincing.
"No you don’t."
"I do. You’re insufferable."
"You keep saying that."
"Because it’s true."
I wrapped my arms around her waist, holding her there, feeling the way her whole body was trembling with effort and arousal and the tail end of that orgasm still running through her system.
Then I thrust up.
Hard.
Her reaction was imdiate and loud. A moan tore out of her throat directly into my ear, high and broken and completely uncontrolled. Her fingers dug into my shoulders hard enough to bruise. Her back arched, pressing her chest harder against mine.
I did it again.
"Ah—Ro—"
Again.
"Wait—I—ah!"
I set a rhythm and her body stopped trying to lead and just held on. Her legs were useless at this angle, spread too wide to give her leverage, leaving her completely at the rcy of whatever pace I decided to set.
I decided to set a brutal one.
The sound of skin on skin filled the room. Sharp. Rhythmic. The kind of sound that left no ambiguity about what was happening.
Plap.
Plap.
Plap.
Cheon’s moans matched the rhythm exactly, spilling out of her with every thrust, her voice climbing higher with each one.
"Ro—please—I can’t—ah—"
She could. She was. Her body clenched around every ti I hit deep, her Essentia spiking through the drain in waves that made my vision white out at the edges.
I turned my head slightly, my mouth near her ear, and spoke low enough that she had to focus to hear over her own sounds.
"You feel incredible."
Her whole body shuddered. A broken sound escaped her throat that might have been my na.
"So tight," I continued, because apparently I was doing this now. "So perfect. Taking so well."
"Stop—talking—" she gasped, but her body betrayed her, clenching harder, her hips rolling forward to et my thrusts even though her legs were shaking too hard to support the movent.
"Make ."
She couldn’t. She could barely form words, let alone coherent argunts. Every ti she opened her mouth another moan ca out instead, loud and shaless and nothing like the controlled voice she used in class.
The drain between us was wide open now, both directions running at full capacity. Her Essentia flooded into in sharp electric pulls while mine poured back in the sa rhythm, amplifying everything, feeding back on itself until I couldn’t tell where my pleasure ended and hers began.
I could feel her getting close again. The way her breathing changed, the way her nails raked down my back, the way her whole body went tense and trembling.
"That’s it," I said against her ear. "Let feel it."
"I—ah—Ro—I’m—"
She tried to muffle herself by pressing her face into my shoulder but it didn’t work. The sound ca through anyway, muffled and desperate and so fucking good that I almost followed her over the edge right there.
Almost.
I had more control than that. Barely. The condom helped, in the sense that it dulled everything just enough to keep from finishing in the first two minutes like a teenager.
I hated it.
Not because it didn’t work. Because it worked too well. Because every ti I felt Cheon clench around I wanted to feel it properly, wanted to know exactly how wet she was, wanted to fill her up and watch it drip back out while she lay there too boneless to move.
A life where consequences were soone else’s problem and I took what I wanted without caring about the aftermath.
That version of would have ripped the condom off already.
This version of kept it on and focused on making Cheon fall apart instead.
She was close. So close I could taste it through the drain, that bright electric current building toward a breaking point.
I shifted the angle slightly, hitting deeper, and her whole body locked up.
"There?" I asked.
She nodded frantically against my shoulder, beyond words, beyond anything except the sensation running through her.
I kept hitting that spot. Over and over. Relentless.
Her moans turned into sothing higher, more desperate. "Ah—ah—ah—Ro—please—I can’t—"
"You can."
"I—ah—fuck—"
Cheon Hae-Won just said fuck.
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