AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I like the way you curse,” I tell him, running my fingers softly over his length.
“You do?” he asks, and frowns too, those dark brows drawing cutely together. I mean, the man is terrifying, but not to me.
“Yes,” I say against his lips as I brush my thumb over the tip, and it feels sticky. Holy shit, is that precum dripping down his shaft? His eyes roll into the back of his head as he pushes himself against my hand, urging me to go faster. It’s empowering to have him pant like this. Empowering and crazy. Is this my own case of Stockholm syndrome? The guy being gorgeous shouldn’t change the fact he has kidnapped me. Technically, he won me fair and square because I fucked up big time.
“What are you thinking about?” he asks, and his lips part when I rub my thumb over the head in slow circular motions.
“I’m not thinking at the moment to tell you the truth,” I whisper, while he purrs and digs his fingers in my waist.
“Damn it,” he groans in Korean. “Don’t fucking stop.”
I don’t intend to, this is the first time I feel powerful, in control, like I can do anything. Be anything.I keep stroking his length and his nostrils flare as he widens his stance, resting his forehead against mine while his lips touch my temple.
“Ugh,” he moans under his breath while I work him harder. With a growl, he grabs my hand and slams it against the wall.
“What are you doing?” I ask, defeated. He probably sees the look in my eyes change.
“One more stroke from those tiny hands and I would have come, but I want the first time to be inside of you,” he drawls.
My cheeks flush and I nod while I lick my lips.
He shakes his head and softly runs the tip of his thumb over my mouth. “We do this how I want. You’re mine to do with as I please, remember?”
I nod again and swallow hard, knowing I’m in deep shit. A naughty smile lights up his face before it’s gone again.
“Get dressed and meet me in the living room so we can discuss the damn ground rules.” He pushes himself from the wall and turns around, revealing his broad back to me, and I gasp at the scar running over the better part of his shoulder, like someone tried to slice his back right open, or they did judging by how deep it runs. What the hell happened? I watch him leave the room and stand there staring at the door for way too long. And why do I want him to come back and finish whatever it is we started?
BURN
Storm
I’m screwed. I flick off the water and wrap the fluffy towel around my body before heading to the clothes he left for me. There is even a new toothbrush for me to use. The man thought of everything. I try to locate a hairdryer, and the first cabinet I open produces an expensive looking thing. Okay, here goes nothing, I tell myself, trying to tame my hair. When I’m finished, I stare at my reflection. Shit, my hair looks great. Rich bastard. I angrily brush my teeth and spit out the toothpaste and go through the clothes. All his. No underwear for me. I roll my eyes, pulling on his sweats anyway. They swamp my frame, so I roll the legs up and fix my hair before heading outside.
I saunter through the hallway and stop in my tracks, music is softly playing from a record player in the corner. His cat is sleeping on the big cream sofa, and when I look at the view of the river, I have the urge to pinch myself to check if this is real. I hear swearing coming from the kitchen, followed by glass breaking.
“Fuck,” he bellows, and I stifle a giggle as I head into the kitchen and take my seat on one of the barstools. He has his back turned to me. His long black hair is still wet from the shower, and he’s wearing all black too, his hair leaving wet stains on his dark shirt. If I raided his closet, would this be the only color I’d encounter? A familiar smell reaches my nose and I jump up to peek in the bag standing on the counter.
“You ordered noodles?” I ask.
He hits his head against the cabinet he was peering into, and growls under his breath.
I laugh, which I try to turn into a cough—can’t have the scary K-drama mafia guy go all ballistic on me.
“Yeah, I fucking did,” he says, those cheeks flushing a little like he’s embarrassed I saw him hitting his head. “I thought you might be hungry, and I need to eat something for what I’m planning to do with you.” My hands hover midway in the bag. There is a threat in his statement.
“You can take it out, we need to eat first. And bring it inside, I’ll get the plates and the beer. You drink, right?”
I nod and do as he tells me, placing the black bean noodles on the dinner table. His cat perks up when I take my seat. I can’t believe I’m here, I think as I look around his enormous apartment.
“I only have this,” he says, holding up two bottles of beer and soju stopping in his tracks to glare at me, his eyes running over the clothes I’m wearing.
“It’s fine, anything you’ve got is okay,” I tell him.
He grunts and places the drinks and two glasses and chopsticks between us on the table.
“Eat,” he says, and watches me as I take the first bite.
I moan and lick the sauce from my fingers. He shifts in his seat and focuses his attention on his glass before he throws it back, followed by another. He slicks his long hair behind his ears and watches me eat. Those cold, black calculating eyes watch my every move. Sometimes he shifts and flicks his gaze to the view outside.
