Weld

1.2K 92 109
                                    

When Seri awakens the next morning, she finds herself plastered into Jeong Hyeok's chest, his one arm cradling her neck, while the other was planted upon her rear. Her thigh had slipped between his, the weight of his legs upon her a delicious gravity as she recalled the events of the previous night. A blush blooms upon her cheeks as she reminds herself of her brazen demeanor, allowing him to paint her while she was completely bare.

But after the white heat of pleasure had scorched through her veins, after the ragged pacing of her breath found some semblance of cadence, and after her toes uncurled from the tonic ecstasy, he had ushered her into his arms, wrapping himself around her until the biting chill of the winter air stood no chance, until the heat of his body simmered into hers entirely. Jeong Hyeok had murmured his intentions into her slick skin, peppering her flesh with the weight of his lips, lingering ever so often as he ran his tongue of every contour he could find.

She burrows into his hardened chest, inhaling his natural musk as well as any remnants of their arousal from the night before, before smiling against his skin. The movement, though faint, awakens Jeong Hyeok from his slumber, peering down at the swallow encaged in his arms, her soft skin like a canvas below his fingertips. Trailing his hand up her spine, he lands to rest his hand at the back of her head, massaging the back of her scalp as he urges her to look upon him. She meets his gaze without resistance, and is met with his stare burning her like the embers of a raging fire, the lust of the previous night not at all diminished.

"Did you sleep well?" He questions, his usually deep voice laced with the final remnants of sleep.

But Seri can only nod, flustered slightly at the thought of him emptying himself inside her last night, the way he called out her name as the intensity of his pleasure overtook him.

She thinks of her propriety, at that moment, the brazen dance that they partook in during the still hours of the night flitting through her mind as she musters enough courage to ask him of his true intentions.

"You'll take care of me, right?" she probes, searching his eyes for anything that would insinuate the contrary. She tries to fight the tremble in her voice, but it's for naught, as the thought of sharing something so intimate with him, only to be left to the wayside, permeates through her mind, discarding any of the assurances he had whispered to her just mere hours ago.

"I'll take care of you," he promises, his eyes holding a ferocity she was slowly growing accustomed to, but even still, hearing the words from his mouth, was the oath she needed to tame the wild beating of her thumping heart.

He repeats his statement, before placing his mouth against her, his tongue slipping through her lips to meet his before engaging in languid caresses, the languorous strokes stoking a fire within her soul.

"I'll take care of you....," he reiterates, this time pressing his lips upon the creamy column of skin, before traveling down her chest, the vibrations of his voice against her skin causing her to feel the reverberation straight to her toes. With each flutter of his lips, he repeats the promise, hoping that the words would seep through her flesh and course through her veins, until she knew nothing but his affirmations.

"Jeong Hyeok-ssiiii," she responds, her voice dragging in a choked-out moan as she feels him flutter a kiss against her intimate flesh.

He had hoped one day that he would hear her such, calling out his name in ecstasy, for her voice to him was like the most beautiful symphony, the musical intonation of her speech leaving him entranced.

He looks up at her and observes the stripes of dried paint tainting her immaculate skin, mirroring the strokes of his calloused fingers upon her flesh the night before. He begins to paint, with the leisure strokes of his tongue, combined with the curved brushes of his digits the canvas only meant for his eyes, watching as Seri comes undone in front of his eyes, her eyes shut as she rides the wave of pleasure generously given to her by her painter.

Portrait of a SwallowWhere stories live. Discover now