Chapter 161: Chapter 161: Aftercare & Appetite

Sunlight poured through the wide glass doors, soft and golden, painting everything in the rooftop apartment with a warmth that felt both foreign and utterly right after a night that had ended in sweat, cries, and the kind of raw need that still lingered in every slow, easy movement. Joon-ho stood in front of the stove, hair messy, muscles flexed and glistening with the faintest sheen of last night’s heat, wearing only a pair of grey boxers. He was frying eggs and slicing fruit with the steady, practiced hands of a man who liked routine—a contradiction to the chaos of the night before.

Su-bin was with him, already in her crisp black bar uniform, hair perfectly tied, hands deft as she laid out plates, poured coffee, and kept sneaking glances at Joon-ho’s bare chest when she thought he wasn’t looking. She smiled to herself, a little proud and a little giddy—she’d played her own part in the pleasures of last night, and now the aftercare felt like a secret they shared.

Ha-eun sat at the bar counter, sipping her coffee, her legs folded up beneath her, completely at ease in a nearly sheer nightgown. The fabric clung to her every curve, nipples dark and peaked against the morning chill, love bites trailing down her throat and across her chest in fading reds and purples. She didn’t bother to cover herself; she never did. She watched Joon-ho move, lazy and appreciative, a satisfied predator with her prey content to keep prowling nearby.

The sound of bare feet padded over polished floor. Alina appeared first, wrapped in a floral kimono, her golden hair tumbled down her back, eyes still heavy with sleep. She stopped next to Ha-eun, taking in the view—Joon-ho’s back, all muscle and power, the dip of his waist above the boxers, the easy strength in his arms as he flipped eggs. Alina bit her lip, a slow, feline smile on her lips, and sat next to Ha-eun.

A moment later, Min-Kyung emerged, also in a kimono, but her steps were smaller, her body held a little stiffer, as if every movement reminded her of something buried inside. She moved with careful grace, her eyes darting between the sofa, the bar, and the kitchen. She sat, shifting awkwardly, a flush creeping up her neck as she settled in, the pressure of the anal plug—her "souvenir" from last night—still making itself felt with every breath.

Ha-eun was the first to break the lazy silence, reaching out with a perfectly manicured finger to lift Alina’s chin. Her eyes danced with wicked amusement. "Enjoying the view this morning?" she teased, her voice low and syrupy. "Or are you just hoping you get disciplined again soon?"

Alina’s cheeks flushed, but she didn’t look away. "Yes, Mistress," she answered quietly, the word slipping out like she’d been waiting all morning to say it.

Ha-eun’s smile widened, approval unmistakable. "Good girl. Then you’ve earned a reward—enjoy the view all you like."

Min-Kyung shifted, biting her lower lip as she tried not to squirm. Su-bin appeared at her side, offering coffee with one hand and leaning in so only Min-Kyung could hear: "You can keep the plug, you know," she whispered, lips brushing the shell of Min-Kyung’s ear. "It’s a souvenir of your service." Min-Kyung’s eyes widened, a shiver running visibly through her as she accepted the cup, her thighs pressing together despite herself.

Joon-ho finished plating the last of the food and set it all on a wide tray. He and Su-bin brought everything to the big, sunlit table: steaming bowls of rice, miso soup, fresh kimchi, cold fruit, toast, perfect runny eggs. He poured coffee for everyone, the easy host, and when he finally sat, Alina and Min-Kyung slid in close on either side, their shoulders and thighs brushing his, subtle electricity crackling in every casual contact.

Ha-eun took her seat across from him, crossing her legs under her chair, watching the trio on the opposite side of the table with an indulgent, satisfied air.

The mood was languid and easy, yet underneath it all was the unspoken energy of too many secrets, too much shared skin, too many lines blurred to ever be redrawn. Alina leaned into Joon-ho, her hand settling on his thigh beneath the table, the touch hidden, possessive. Min-Kyung was subtler, content just to feel the heat of his body and the safety of being close.

Suddenly, the sliding door to one of the guest rooms clicked open and Natty strode out, all sleepy confidence and no self-consciousness, wearing nothing but a bright pair of panties and a T-shirt she’d clearly borrowed from the laundry. She walked right to the table, sat down, and surveyed the spread. "This is the real prize, honestly," she declared, reaching for a stack of pancakes.

Yumi appeared next, quieter, wrapped in her own kimono but with hints of lace peeking out at the neckline and thighs. She hesitated a moment, eyes darting to Joon-ho, then to Min-Kyung and Alina, then finally to Ha-eun. Her cheeks flamed pink as she slid into her chair, glancing shyly at the others, her fingers knotting nervously in her lap.

Ha-eun, never one to let a moment slip by, set down her cup and tilted her head, studying Yumi with a half-smile. "Did you enjoy the show last night, Yumi? Or were you too busy enjoying yourself to pay attention?"

Yumi froze, mouth opening and closing. Su-bin grinned as she brought a fresh pot of tea. "Madam," she said, eyes twinkling, "Yumi was watching us for quite a while. She even gave herself a little... treat."

Yumi’s blush went from pink to scarlet. She ducked her head, unable to say a word. Alina, with a grin that was equal parts wicked and warm, leaned across Joon-ho. "You know, you can join us next time. Natty too, if she ever gets tired of pancakes."

Yumi’s eyes widened. "Maybe... I’d like to try. Next time," she stammered, voice trembling but genuine.

Natty shrugged, shoveling eggs into her mouth. "Not a bad offer," she said, licking syrup off her fingers. "I like food more than sex, but who knows?"

The tension broke into laughter, the table filling with easy, playful energy, the sense of family and freedom blooming between all the teasing and secrets. Even Yumi, who had seemed shyest, found herself smiling as the conversation drifted from food to music to stories from the girls’ home countries.

After everyone had eaten their fill, Su-bin moved quietly to clear the table, her touch gentle, eyes catching little details—a bruise here, a stray hair there, the satisfied slouch of someone who’d been cared for and cared in return. She washed dishes as the rest of the group migrated to the sofa, drinks in hand, settling into plush cushions and contented sighs.

Ha-eun, taking her place as hostess, stood in front of the group with her coffee, the morning light making her translucent gown glow, every curve and shadow visible beneath. "You’re all welcome here anytime," she said, her tone part invitation, part command. "Especially if you need a little discipline... or want to serve. Just let Joon-ho know and you’ll always have a place."

Alina beamed at the words, pride and anticipation bright in her eyes. Min-Kyung blushed, shifting on the sofa as the plug reminded her of everything she’d done and everything she wanted. Yumi nodded shyly, a secret promise blooming behind her downcast lashes. Even Natty, mouth full of toast, managed a grin. "I’ll let you know if I ever run out of things to eat," she deadpanned.

The moment softened, everyone falling into quiet for a minute, letting the feeling of comfort and new possibility settle.

Min-Kyung broke the peace, glancing at Joon-ho. "Today’s the day you pay Mirae’s contract fee, right?" Her voice was hopeful but tinged with something deeper—gratitude, trust, belonging.

Joon-ho smiled, giving her hand a squeeze. "Yeah. I look after my girls. All of you—Yura, Mirae, Harin, Min-Kyung, Ji-hye." He looked at each of them in turn, making the promise real.

Ha-eun raised her mug in a toast. "You’re a good man, Joon-ho. Most men just take. You take care. Don’t ever let them change that."

Alina, Yumi, and Natty exchanged a glance, curiosity clear but unspoken—they didn’t know the intricacies of Korean celebrity contracts or the politics of EON and Lumina, but it was obvious to everyone that these bonds ran deeper than last night’s pleasure.

It was late morning when everyone rose to dress and pack for the day. The girls drifted through the apartment, laughter echoing in the bathroom, silk kimonos exchanged for street clothes or workwear, makeup dabbed on in mirrors still foggy from the shower. Ha-eun—still the queen, but soft around the edges now—made sure each woman had what she needed, pressing a kiss to Yumi’s cheek, tucking a strand of hair behind Alina’s ear, giving Min-Kyung a long, knowing look.

A sleek black van arrived in the drive—Ha-eun’s private car for guests, gleaming and luxurious. She ushered Alina, Min-Kyung, Natty, and Yumi into the back, promising that the boutique would have everything ready for their day. "And remember, if you want to come back... just tell Joon-ho. My doors are always open—especially if you need a lesson or two."

The girls laughed, piling into the van, waving out the window as it pulled away. Su-bin watched from the doorway, lips parted in a small, private smile, her eyes soft with satisfaction.

Joon-ho lingered a moment longer, standing in the kitchen, the last of the coffee cooling in his cup. Ha-eun moved behind him, arms sliding around his waist, lips brushing his shoulder. "You’ll come back?" she asked quietly, voice as intimate as any caress.

He turned to face her, hands sliding to her hips, their bodies close but easy. "If you want me."

She kissed him—slow, deep, unhurried, a promise and a claim all at once. "Always."

He left for his own apartment with the scent of her skin and coffee still clinging to him, a warm ache in his chest. The rooftop already felt a little emptier, but the echo of laughter and the memory of every touch lingered as sunlight streamed in, promising new beginnings and another wild, bright day.