Chapter Eight #4
Hyunwoo grins against my skin, his lips curving where they’re pressed to the side of my throat, and the arm around my waist tightens, pulling me closer.
“It’s you,” he says, his voice low and a little rough, like he’s been thinking about this for a while.
“You smell absolutely incredible lately, Yuggie. Better every single day.” He inhales again, deeper this time, his nose dragging up the column of my neck to the spot just below my ear where my scent is strongest, and groans softly.
“The pregnancy is doing something to your scent that’s driving me out of my mind.
It’s richer, sweeter—like your body is putting out some kind of signal specifically designed to make alphas lose it. ”
His tongue drags a hot, wet stripe up the side of my neck, pressing flat against my scent gland, and the sensation sends a jolt straight down my spine that makes my cock twitch in my sweatpants and my hole clench. I yelp and shove his face away with my palm against his forehead, pushing him back.
“Don’t lick me like I’m a popsicle,” I snap, wiping at my neck with the back of my hand even though the damp trail his tongue left is already making my skin tingle and my pulse pick up.
Hyunwoo just laughs, bright and unbothered, not remotely deterred by being shoved.
He catches my wrist and pulls my hand away from my neck, holding it loosely in his grip as he leans back in, his grin wide and shameless.
“Come here,” he says, his tone coaxing and warm.
“We should work on your flexibility. Consistently, I mean—pelvic stretching, hip mobility, that kind of thing. It’ll make the birth a lot easier when the time comes if your body is already loose and limber. ”
I twist around to face him fully, giving him the flattest look I can manage. “You’re completely full of shit.”
“What? It’s a legitimate concern—”
“Hyunwoo, I’m a personal trainer. I know what flexibility work looks like, and I can promise you it doesn’t involve your dick.” I jab a finger into his chest. “You just want to fuck me and you’re wrapping it in medical language so it sounds responsible.”
Hyunwoo tilts his head, trying very hard to look thoughtful and innocent and failing spectacularly at both.
“Okay,” he concedes, “putting my cock in you is definitely part of the appeal, I’m not going to pretend otherwise.
” His hand finds my hip, his thumb tracing a slow circle against the bone through my sweatpants.
“But the flexibility point still stands. Your hips are going to need to open wider than they ever have when you deliver, and if you start working on that range of motion now—”
He doesn’t finish the sentence because he’s already pushing me backward, one hand flat on my chest and the other catching my hip, tipping me off balance so I fall back onto the mattress with a grunt.
The bed bounces under my weight and I barely get my elbows under me before Hyunwoo is climbing over me, settling his weight between my legs, his knees nudging my thighs apart as he grins down at me, half playful and half hungry, his dark eyes gleaming in the warm light of the bedside lamp.
“I hate you,” I tell him, but there’s no conviction behind it because his hand is already sliding down my stomach, his fingers hooking into my waistband, and my cock is hardening traitorously beneath the fabric, responding to his proximity and his scent and the warm pressure of his body between my legs with the kind of eager, mindless enthusiasm that would be humiliating if I hadn’t already given up on dignity weeks ago.
Hyunwoo tugs my sweatpants down my hips and off my legs in one smooth pull.
I’m bare beneath him, my cock flushed and half-hard against my stomach, slick already gathering between my cheeks and dampening the sheets under me.
He makes a low, appreciative sound in his throat as he looks down at me, his gaze traveling from my face to my chest to my belly to my cock and then lower, his attention on my naked body still makes heat crawl up my neck.
His hands grip the backs of my thighs and push them up toward my chest, folding me, spreading me open.
My knees end up near my shoulders, my hips tilted, my hole exposed and clenching in the cool air of the bedroom, slick leaking in a slow trickle that I can feel running down toward the small of my back.
Hyunwoo settles between my spread legs and I feel the blunt head of his cock press against my entrance—hot, thick, familiar now in a way that makes my body open for him.
He pushes in slow. One long, steady stroke that spreads me open around his cock inch by inch, the stretch pulling a groan from my chest that I don’t bother trying to suppress.
My fingers find the sheets and twist into them, my back arching as he bottoms out, his hips flush against my ass, the full heavy length of him seated deep inside me.
My walls grip him tight, slick and hot, and the fullness sends sparks scattering through my pelvis that make my toes curl.
“There,” Hyunwoo murmurs above me, his voice rough, his hands still gripping the backs of my thighs and holding them wide. “See? Flexibility training.”
I let out a breathless laugh that turns into a moan as he pulls back and drives in again, deeper, angling his hips so the head of his cock drags against my prostate on the way in.
My fingers twist harder in the sheets and my legs tremble in his grip, and I think—distantly, through the haze of pleasure building behind my eyes—that the nagging feeling can wait until morning.