For The Thrill

Chapter 2

He kissed her softly at first, hands around the curves of her hips and the soft lines of her jaw until his fingers dug into her skin desperately. It sent a thrill that pressed her heart and sank down to her stomach. She pulled him closer, afraid of the cold that would surround her at the loss of his touch. Dreyes fumbled and pinned her to the wall. They were gasping. But he pressed his lips to her throat, his hands slipping under the satin skirt of her bejeweled dress.

Her skin burned and she had to pull him closer again until they were bone to bone. Her small chest to his slender figure. His cigarette scent filled everything around her but she wanted more. 

She almost cried.

"Emil. My first name is Emil." He told her.

She nodded, her hands pressed to his shoulders. 

Dreyes looked up at her and his tall nose bumped into hers. She shook her head. None of this matters, her eyes told him. She was fine. 

So she leaned into a kiss and felt a tear slip through her cheeks. Her whole body froze but he moved lower until the curls of his hair tickled her forehead. She didn't apologize when her tears stained his lips as he moved to kiss her lips and cheeks tenderly. And she let go of the tension that crippled her nerves in a single glance when their eyes met again. 

"This isn't the part where you cry," he teased.

"I know." She pulled him back and started to peel off his jacket. She tossed his tie somewhere across the hall. No one would notice, she told herself. Lots of things littered the floor of the simple, depressingly brown apartment. She walked him to her room, unbuttoning his shirt with every step they took, eyes linked together when their lips were denied that comfort.

"My mother gets back at three. We have five hours to ourselves." It didn't need to sound too seductive. He was willing to give himself away the moment she spoke to him. He didn't know what it was. He wanted her now. He wanted to feel his skin on hers before the night ended. 

"I think I love you," Dreyes told her when she got to his belt. She was seated on the bed. He stood in front of her, waiting to feel her again.

Soo-Jin looked up at him with wide eyes, the dark room lit with whatever the moon had offered behind the thin curtains. "I kind of hoped you'd say it after. I don't want to disappoint you now."

He laughed. Because that was so outrageous to him. Their souls were already tied. They were one. 

He told her he loved her throughout the night, got her drunk on praise, and the promise of cigarette smoke on the balcony. When he sunk into her, when he wiped the sweat off her forehead, and when she bit and licked at his neck when she told him they weren't done.

And he let her. He let himself feel loved. And he knew, when she kissed his chest and went lower after every peck, that he would do anything to keep things how they were right then.

"I love you," he told her again.

"I know," she repeated.