Chapter 194: Chapter 194: Steam-Touched

Steam gathered on the shower glass, beads of water tracing lazy paths down to where Ji-hye’s hands pressed flat—palms spread, breath fogging the surface with every shaky exhale. The air was thick and heavy with heat, the steady thrum of water muffling the world beyond, making it feel as if the only things that existed were the curve of her body, the gentle command of Joon-ho’s touch, and the hungry pull building between them.

He was behind her, chest pressed to her back, heartbeat a slow thunder she felt with every breath. One hand slid up her arm, tracing the slick muscle from elbow to shoulder, the other cupping her waist, thumb stroking in slow, grounding circles just above her hipbone. He kissed the spot where her neck met her shoulder—a soft, lingering press of lips that promised tenderness and heat in equal measure.

"Look at me," he whispered, voice low and close, his mouth so near she could feel the words on her skin more than she heard them. She turned her face, meeting his gaze in the reflection—eyes wide, pupils blown, a question and a plea mingling in her expression. He brushed a damp strand of hair from her cheek, the gesture more intimate than any groan or gasp.

"You okay?" he murmured, his thumb stilling.

Ji-hye nodded, throat tight. "I want this. I want you."

He smiled, the kind of smile that could strip all her armor away. "Tell me if it’s too much. I want you comfortable."

She gave a breathless laugh, pressing back into him. "You make everything warm, Joon-ho."

His hands slid lower, finding her hips, guiding her with gentle insistence until she was facing the glass fully. The contrast sent a shiver up her spine—hot water beating across her back, nipples pebbling against the cool surface, the slick friction making every nerve come alive. She felt exposed and cherished all at once.

He leaned in, forehead resting on her shoulder, hands mapping the lines of her body as if memorizing her again. "Your body’s beautiful," he said, voice soft and full of wonder. "Every time I touch you, it feels like the first time."

Ji-hye’s eyes fluttered shut, a smile tugging at her lips. "I missed the way you talk to me," she confessed, breath catching as his fingers teased the inside of her thigh, coaxing her legs just a little further apart.

He took his time, sliding his cock along the slick, aching heat between her legs, not rushing a single moment. She arched into him, anticipation making her thighs tremble, the pressure between her legs excruciating and electric. Every part of her felt hyperaware—how he fit behind her, thick and solid, how his hands branded her hips and cradled her wrists against the glass, how the world fell away until there was only sensation and the safe hush between his words.

He didn’t let her move, holding her right where he wanted—her tits mashed against the cool glass, nipples so hard they ached, steam curling around her, every breath heavy with sex. His cock slid through her folds, teasing her, rubbing her clit until she whimpered and tried to push back, desperate for more. He only chuckled, breath hot against her ear, savoring her squirm.

"Are you ready?" he whispered, lips brushing her ear, voice dripping with promise and control.

"Please," she answered, the word a ragged little plea, barely more than a tremor in the steam. "Don’t stop... I need all of you."

He pressed inside slowly, the blunt head pushing at her entrance, then splitting her open inch by torturous inch. He wanted her to feel every bit—how deep he reached, how wide he stretched her, how much she belonged to him. Ji-hye gasped, forehead pressing harder to the glass, knees shaking as he filled her, her body instinctively opening for him. The stretch burned, pleasure-soaked pain making her toes curl, and when he bottomed out, balls flush against her ass, she nearly sobbed.

He held still, letting her adjust, thumbs stroking slow circles into her hips, hips flush to her ass, their bodies sealed together by sweat and need. He leaned in, pressing his mouth to her shoulder, voice rough and reverent.

"You feel like home," he whispered, letting his lips linger, teeth scraping lightly at her skin. "Always so perfect for me. Fuck, you were made for this."

She could only moan in answer, one hand reaching back blindly, searching for his—needing the anchor, the contact. He caught her hand, threading their fingers tight behind her back, palm to palm. He squeezed, grounding her, and then started to move.

He drew out almost all the way, cockhead dragging over her sensitive flesh, teasing her to the brink, then drove back in slow and deep, filling her completely. Each thrust was measured, relentless, claiming—he wanted her to feel ruined and worshipped all at once. Every time he pulled back, the cool glass kissed her skin; every time he pushed in, heat radiated through her bones, each stroke shoving her tits harder against the foggy pane, every sound echoing obscenely in the steamy silence.

He set a rhythm—deep, steady, grinding his hips into her ass with every thrust, cock dragging against that sweet spot that made her cry out, her body shuddering. His free hand slid up her side, cupping a breast, thumb circling her nipple, rolling it between his fingers until she was panting, mouth open, eyes squeezed shut.

"Look at you," he growled softly, nipping her earlobe, hips slapping into her, "so fucking desperate. You love this, don’t you? Love being pinned here, all spread out for me, taking every inch."

She could only whimper, grinding back, hungry for more, letting him use her exactly how he wanted—raw, filthy, no barriers, no shame. His cock hit deep, again and again, every thrust rocking her forward until she was dizzy with it, wetness slicking her thighs, soaking his length every time he drove in.

He wrapped his arm across her chest, holding her up as her legs started to give out, his other hand never letting go of hers behind her back. He buried his face in her neck, biting down, marking her as his, groaning her name into her skin.

The rhythm got rougher, the slap of flesh on flesh echoing between them, her ass reddening beneath his grip. He wanted her trembling, shaking, so ruined she couldn’t stand after. And he could feel it—her body tightening around him, her breaths going wild, nails digging into his hand as she spiraled toward the edge.

He set a merciless pace—not fast, but unyielding, grinding his hips against her with each deliberate drive, making her feel every thick inch as he bottomed out. The air between them was thick with heat and need, sweat and steam beading along her spine, his chest slick against her back.

Every time she exhaled, it fogged the glass, a haze of their breath and longing, marking the rhythm of his thrusts in delicate patterns. His hands slipped from her hips to her belly, holding her firm, fingers splayed, his thumbs rubbing slow circles that made her gasp. He tugged her hips back, angling her just right so every stroke hit the spot that made her legs tremble and her voice catch.

He worshipped her with words as much as touch, whispering praise with every movement. "You move so well... every part of you responds to me. I love the way you trust me, Ji-hye. You’re everything."

Her breath hitched, chest tight with emotion. "You make me feel safe... wanted. I need you so much, Joon-ho."

He tangled his fingers with hers on the glass, hips moving in that relentless, aching rhythm—never rushed, never punishing. The water wrapped them in heat, turning their skin slick, washing away sweat and fear and anything that wasn’t this moment. Ji-hye pressed her cheek to the fogged pane, eyes squeezed shut, letting herself surrender to his pace, the praise, the way he held her.

He slid one hand around to her clit, circling slow, coaxing her higher with every touch. Her legs quivered, muscles burning with pleasure and exhaustion. She leaned back into his chest, head falling to his shoulder.

"I’ve got you," he whispered, mouth at her ear. "Let go whenever you need to."

"Don’t let me fall," she managed, barely a whisper.

"Always," he promised, wrapping his free arm around her stomach, anchoring her.

The climax built in slow, tightening waves. Ji-hye squeezed his hand, body taut as a bow, her orgasm crashing over her like a storm—no scream, just a soft, broken moan and the thunderous staccato of her breath fogging the glass. Her knees buckled, but he held her, moving slow and gentle until she was spent, trembling in his arms.

Feeling her come undone tipped him over the edge. He pressed even closer, hips stuttering, and came inside her, his own release quiet, shivering through him in long, deep pulses. He held her tight, cheek against her shoulder, the two of them wrapped in steam and satisfaction.

He stayed inside her for a long moment, letting her breathing steady, their hearts pounding in time. When he finally slipped free, he caught her before she could slide down, turning her gently in his arms.

She looked up at him, eyes shining with tears and laughter, cheeks flushed, lips parted in disbelief. "You always know exactly what I need," she whispered, voice raw and full.

He kissed her—slow, sweet, grounding. "Because I listen. Because you let me in."

He washed her body gently, running soapy hands over her skin, kneading her shoulders and thighs, massaging every ache from travel and pleasure alike. She let her head fall to his chest, trusting him to hold her up.

When the water finally cooled, he shut it off and wrapped her in a thick towel, rubbing warmth back into her arms. He scooped her up, cradling her against his chest, her legs instinctively curling around his hips, arms looped around his neck.

The bathroom was thick with the scent of sex and steam. After the shower, they didn’t bother to dry off—Joon-ho just scooped Ji-hye up and carried her straight to the oversized bathtub, both of them leaving wet, messy footprints along the way. He let her slide into the warm water first, watching her settle back with a satisfied sigh, legs stretching out, the flush of orgasm still high on her cheeks.

He climbed in behind her, pulling her back between his thighs, arms wrapping around her middle, lips pressing to the nape of her neck. For a moment, they just breathed—soft and quiet, letting the water soothe overworked muscles and the shockwaves still rolling through both their bodies.

Joon-ho’s hands wandered, lazy and possessive, tracing circles on her belly and thighs, sometimes just gripping her close. "Can’t get enough of you," he muttered against her skin, voice thick, one hand cupping a breast, thumb teasing her nipple under the surface until she squirmed with sensitive little gasps.

Ji-hye melted, head resting back on his shoulder, the tension gone from her limbs. "You’re insatiable," she teased, turning her head to nip his jaw. "I thought you’d worn yourself out."

He chuckled, low and hungry. "Not even close."

His cock nudged against her ass under the water, half-hard and getting thicker by the second, the promise of another round never far from the surface. He let his fingers drift lower, between her legs, spreading her open with obscene casualness, knowing just how raw and needy she still was. "Tell me if you want more," he breathed, teeth grazing her ear. "Or just sit here and let me touch you. Either way, I’m not letting you go."

She shivered, rolling her hips back, legs falling open under the water. "Why choose?" she whispered, a wicked smile curling her lips. "Just ruin me again."

The night was barely half over.