𝗔𝗟𝗟 𝗠𝗜𝗡𝗘 ,, 𝖻𝗍𝗌' 𝖾𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗁 𝗆𝖾𝗆𝖻𝖾𝗋 [𝗁𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗇𝗒𝖾𝗈𝗉]

🔞 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝗁𝗈𝗆𝖾 🔞

Moon Gayoung's pov:

"You are breathtaking."

I turned away from the bathroom mirror, leaning against the counter and meeting Jaemin's gaze with my own. His eyes ranked up and down my body, clad in a slinky, silken dress that shone brightly beneath the fluorescent and clung to my every curve like liquid. I smirked at his gawking eyes and raised brows, carefully wiping the excess lipstick that bled from the corner of my mouth with my pointer finger. That motion drew his attention upward, his eyes settling on the plump set of my mouth, painted and sultry, deep shade of scarlet.

He huffed a breath and shook his head, trying to form the right words to compliment me, but they seem to instantly evaporate from his tongue the moment he opened his mouth. Instead, he walked towards me, taking my hands in his and stroking his thumbs against my soft skin, laughing at himself as he gaped like a fish out of water in response to my beauty.

"Well, you don't look too bad yourself." I jutted my chin slightly at his suit, a neatly-pressed, all black ensemble that only seemed to further enhance the dark brown shade of his eyes.

"Thank you," he said, voice low and hoarse. He leaned closer, pressing his lips to my ear. "Lipstick's a good look on you."

I shuttered, pressing my body closer to his warmth and rocking my hips into his. When he started kissing that sweet spot at the juncture between my jaw and my ear, I couldn't help but let a breathy moan escape my lips.

Now, I felt his hands release mine, gasping the fabric at your his with greedy hands. He continued kissing my neck in a blatant, hungry display of need, lips bowed in a slight, mocking smile when he heard the soft moans that his affection pulled from me. I gripped the edge of the counter tightly with one hand, desperate for purchase, and dragged my other hand up his abdomen, settling my fingers lightly on his chest.

He drew his teeth against my neck and sucked lightly, and I was sure that he was trying to leave a mark, a flagrant signifier to the attendance of the gala we were already late to that belonged to him, and only him. When he pulled away, examining the petechiae he had branded on my skin, I brought both hands in front of me, tracing them down his front in a flirtatious caress and settling on the buckle of his belt. I leaned forward, pressing my forehead to his, taking in his blown pupils as I adeptly released his buckle and unzipped his pants. In a sudden gesture of dominance, I pushed him back to the opposite wall, directing him by the hips. When his back hit the wall, he let out a soft, purring laugh, pleased by my control. He pecked me on my lips, a quick and chaste gesture that contrasted with the unexpectedly sensuous direction then evening was heading into, and I slowly lowered to my knees, maintaining eye contact with him the whole time, pulling his pants down slightly to expose his underwear.