Work with Me
Title: Work with Me
Pairings: Yoochun/fc
Rating: NC-17
Summary: There’s just so many times you say no. Then you just...cave.
A/N: Oneshot of het!smut, blame my muse at 1.00 in the morning~
Down hallways she ran, past numerous rooms with numbers labeled, numbers flying by her. She was scared, scared out of her mind, scared out of her wits wondering why she took this job.
An innocent coordinator job, the person who runs through a tight schedule along with the manager, the person supervising shows and interviews to make sure things run smoothly. She kept a good enough relationship with everyone on the job- amiable and friendly.
But each time she would chat with the makeup artist, the photographer, the cameraman or other staff personnel she’d feel it. And look up in the room, searching for the source. And she would always find him staring at her. An intense dark gaze, unwavering, which shook her to the core.
Be it at the other end of the room or just a few feet away, it always had the same effect on her. She made a point never to directly talk to him unless it was a necessity, preferring to get around to the manager or staff if things weren’t going according to plan. Except today.
Today had been a more hectic day than usual. She barely had enough time in the morning to prepare so here she was in the backstage room juggling coffee, notebook, and duties all at once, clad in casual clothes- an oversized dusty pink sweater, tight black leather leggings and gray boots, with her curly hair carelessly rolled into a bun by a pencil. Her black frames rested on the bridge of her nose but kept slipping off.
The staff commented on how nice she looked even though she knew this too laid-back, cutting it close to her work ethic. As he came into the room to prepare for the performance, the staff joked to him on his coordinator’s new look. He only ran his eyes up and down her once before nodding, refusing to outwardly praise her like the other staff did. The same dark eyes were still there.
Only at one point when his make up was being applied did the sleeve of her sweater slip down as she was bending over a table, writing something on paper for a staff. The staff pointed out her collarbone and shoulder were peeking out and with a blush she yanked up the sleeve and nodded a thank you but caught his eyes through the reflection of the mirror. Perhaps it was the eyeliner freshly drawn on his eyes, perhaps it was that peek of skin, but his look made it clear that he wanted to eat her whole at that moment.
As if to confirm it, his tongue slowly peeked out from his mouth and ran across his lips, eyes never leaving hers. Her eyes widened, he smirked. She felt like she was suffocating and she needed to get out of there. Excusing herself, she ran out the door determined to put as much space between him and her as possible.
After running down the long corridor and making a sharp left, she quickly ducks into another empty backstage room- also a dressing room but at the moment unoccupied. There is a dressing table here and a clothes rack as well as two couches facing each other and several armchairs all around a coffee table, but unlike the other room this one isn’t cluttered with props and various things, with staff running around the place. She hears her panting and heartbeat pounding in her ears, nervous since she thought she heard footsteps behind her. No, it couldn’t possibly be- he had to go onstage within fifteen minutes.
She reaches out a hand and grasps the arm of the couch in front of her, hanging her head so she looks at the ground. She groans, trying to focus and chant to herself that after today it will be over and a new fresh day will start tomorrow. Or she could always call in sick and get a day of rest.
“I’ve got you now, my uljjang coordinator”
She looks up, face to face with him.
“Y-Yoo-Yoochun ssi-” she begins, ready to draw up a mask and warn him about being late for the performance but he puts a finger to her lips.
“We’ve been beating around the bush for god-knows-how-long and I’ve just about had it. The sexual tension’s killing me.”
She hears the click of a lock falling in place as his hand closes the door. He yanks the pencil out of her hair, her hair bounces down around her shoulders before it settles. He moves forward so their chests are touching, his hands place on her hips. She flinches. He stares down at her, dark and lustful.
“So, where would you like? The table, the couch, or the armchair? Take your pick.”
Her eyes grow large behind her frames as she side-steps to escape. Obviously he anticipates that move as he sighs and effortlessly moves to the side as well, blocking her with his body as his grip on her hips tightened. He pushes her backwards until she hits the dressing table and sits heavily on it. He pushes himself between her legs.
His hands run up and down her thighs before swiftly reaching up and pulling down her sweater, exposing her shoulders and collarbone. She jumps, then whimpers. His face is almost touching hers, his lips inches away breathing on her cheek.
“Don’t tell me you don’t want this as well.”
With shaking breaths, her eyes slowly travel up to meet his. His long hair had been curled into waves and tied back so only a few wisps escaped and framed his face, his smooth skin, liquid dark eyes, red lips. And of course the eyeliner...
No, she couldn’t possibly risk her job all for the sake of how he felt, what he wanted to do. She worked too hard to get a job and she’s not about to let this mess her up.
Her hands shakily grab his to stop the teasing rubbing on her thighs. She feels the crispness of his black sweater along with the white paint flecks painted on the sides to give him a more sleeker silhouette.
“P-please...please...” she can only mumble, breath choking on the next words.
He took that as a sign to continue, contrary to what she wanted, and with a sly, devilish grin he bends down and claims her lips in his. He swallows whatever “no”s she was about to voice and uses it as his chance to pry his tongue into her mouth, making her breathless.
Quickly she tries to pull her head back but one of his hands flies behind her head and keeps it there, the other immediately curling around her waist and pulling her closer to him, sliding her to the edge of the table until her body was in contact with his, being squeezed to him. Her hands push at his chest trying to gain some room because she couldn’t breathe, but the tease only smirked into the kiss, tilting his head for access.
Upon feeling his warm breath softly blow onto her face, calm and steady through his nostrils, she remembered she could breathe through her nose not her mouth, and took deep, erratic breaths as if to steady the ravaging of her mouth and lips by him. She felt like he could probably go on for hours, a born natural. But at that moment his nose bumped against the frames of her glasses and with a mutter of “useless thing” he slides them off her nose and casts them to the side.
“Next time, wear contacts.”
And he went right back to devouring her. She whined and pushed at him to go away, to leave her alone, trying to jerk her head away but it was only once she gave up all resistance and went slack did he pull away and look down at her triumphantly, finally conquering her. He takes the sight in.
Knowing nowhere else to look, she looks up at him, trying to get air back into her lungs, body heaving with deep, shaky breaths as she leaned against the mirror tiredly. He looks down at her swollen, red lips and decides he likes the sight before bending over and flicking his tongue over them one more time, feeling her jerk.
“Stop...please, stop” she begs, even as his tongue still traces over the shape of her lips with her words.
“Nope, I don’t plan to.” He replies coolly to her, feeling her shake in his hold.
He smiles. It’s been too long since he has been able to do something like this- been able to claim, been able to chase, been able to kiss, been able to love. And ever since that pretty little thing walked in one day and introduced herself, she had never left his eyesight. He made it known to others to keep their distance for she was his and he would claim her one day. Whether she liked it or not.
“I-I have a boyfr-”
“I see no ring on your finger” he interjects and smiles triumphantly when he sees the despair in her eyes at how her lie didn’t work. She looked away, chin unconsciously resting against his shoulder as her hands gripped the sweater on his arms tightly in bunches.
He inwardly chuckles, imagining her furrowed brow and worried eyes on that cute face. He brings his free hand, the other still around her waist, up to her back between her shoulder blades, rubbing it soothingly. He wasn’t going to let this chance pass him by and as she was still preoccupied with whatever thoughts she had, he closed his mouth around the tempting, appetizing soft spot of her neck that was right in front of him. He hears her soft gasp but continues to wet the spot- biting and sucking on it, determined to leave a mark so she would have no choice but to keep her hair down.
He felt pressure at his shoulders, her hands trying to push him away again. He lets go of the spot and directs his attention to her ear where he nips the lobe and whispers, “The more you resist, the more persuaded and bold I will get.” His tongue travels over the shell of her ear slowly, teasingly.
Only a soft, keen whine met his ears. He feels her head lean against his shoulder and suddenly feels wetness against his neck and the collar of his shirt, realizing she was silently crying.
Turning his head to the side, he presses a kiss to her cheek, tasting salty tears before whispering, “I can make you cry and feel a thousand times better. Shall we try?”
And without even waiting for the answer, the hand on her back suddenly dips low, under her sweater, undoing the clasp of her bra and now roaming across her bare back, rubbing soft circles over soft skin. He could feel trembling, still unwilling, but he only smiled against the crook of her neck. She still wouldn’t look at him. Through the mirror’s reflection he grinned devilishly at himself, then looking at her back facing him in the mirror, legs part and his body in between.
‘On the table it is then’ he thinks to himself.
The hand along her back momentarily stills its rubbing while the hand around her waist dipped into the waistband of her leggings, slowly trying to coax them off. He feels her tense and her hands latch on tightly at his arms, still whispering under her breath, “Nonononono-”
He seductively whispers in her ear, “Yes. And I’m not stopping.” He pulls back a bit so she can hide no more against his shoulder and envelopes her lips in another kiss. This time both his hands work simultaneously- one hand slowly traveling up to cup one breast under her bra while the other steadily lowers both leggings and panty at once. He could tell she was confused, not knowing what to make of each one of these sensations or where to put her hand to stop first- his kissing or his touches and tugging. Right now all she could do was hang on and continue breathing against his forceful kisses.
With a grunt, the hand teasing her breast suddenly wraps around her waist to lift her up so he could fully remove the leggings. With a gasp she grabs onto his shoulders tightly, not knowing why she was suddenly being lifted, unknowingly making the process easier for him. He pulls off her boots and lets them fall to the floor with a thud, and finally strips off her leggings and panty at once, letting them fall to the floor before breaking the kiss and stepping back to admire his handiwork.
Luckily for her, the oversized sweater was long and hit just a few inches above her knees. Her bare butt felt cold on the wooden table but both her hands blew to the hem of the seater, pulling it down to hide as much of her body as she could. She looked down at the floor humiliated, not daring to look up to meet his eyes. His gaze travels over her long legs to her scared eyes. Using his hand to tilt her head up to meet his gaze, he keeps his eyes sincere and murmurs, “You’re beautiful.”
He sees genuine shock in her eyes. “You’re beautiful, ever since I first saw you. Never forget that.”
His hand wraps itself again around her bare waist as she shivers at the touch. “Beautiful...beautiful...”
With each whisper he lays a soft kiss on her face, her neck, her shoulders, the other hand back to teasing her under her bra. By now her eyes are closed and her hands slowly travel up his shoulders to hug his neck, breaths shaky.
“Beautiful” He slowly rocks himself against her, knowing she was now bare and could feel the roughness of his clothes and the bulge in his pants. He hears the soft moan from the back of her throat and kisses a trail from her neck up her jawline to her lips, open in silent gasps. By now his arms didn’t have to do any work- she was hugging herself tightly to him close enough as it was.
Again the hand fondling her goes down to his pants, unbuckling them in no time and letting them, boxers and all, pool around his ankles. He slips out of his shoes, already barefoot since he hated socks. Both hands on her waist now, he rocks against her spread legs, knowing she felt his erection with the sudden gasp and jerk she made. She pulls back from his kisses and looks down, down at his black sweater covering his erection, but the bulge still there, poking at the sweater.
“Yes or no?” Yoochun licks a wet stripe just under her jawline, at the spot where her pulse hummed. He already knew what the answer would be. He grinds his hips into her body, feeling his sweater ride up and his erection finally make contact with her clit, skin to skin. Her whole body shivers and in a soft breath she says, “...yes.”
That’s all he needed. Their next kiss is sloppy, dirty. Tongues mesh, wet and everywhere, both not hiding their moans anymore. Yoochun hikes her legs up so they wrap around his waist, teasing her and grinding up against her body making her wet and clench around air constantly as if trying to pull him in. Her hands have slipped under his sweater and rub circles against his chest and back, never stopping, always moving.
“Ready?” He whispers against her lips and using his hands to brace himself against either side of the table. The head of his cock slides into her easily, now that she was fully wet. She cries out, closing her eyes and arching her back, neck straining and head thrown back. Her legs and hands squeeze against his waist and shoulders. His eyes travel over her face and pale neck, trying hard not to just ram into her over and over, fuck her fast and hard into the table reducing her into a mess under him. Oh yes, he would definitely do this again and again from now on.
Slowly he continued pushing in, feeling her walls clench around him, pulling him in faster, further. Once he was fully inside of her they both moan long and low, breath intermingling. His eyes meet hers as they flash amusedly and she blushes and looks away. He loves it.
Without a warning his hands grip her hips as he pulls out completely and thrusts back in up to the hilt. His body touches hers, rubbing against her clit. He hears her cry and sees her arch her back, trying to take more of him in. He decides from now he likes her cries and wants to hear more. He pulls out and rams in again, over and over, stimulating her and making her cry or moan his name with each thrust. Then he uses his hand to lift her leg up to his shoulder and that makes him hit a spot in her that makes her gasp louder and clench down even harder.
Just a few more thrusts aimed at that angle and she comes. Suddenly the warmth surrounding him is even slicker and wetter. With a few quick thrusts he comes inside her, coating her insides with white as she squeezes tight around him, making the friction almost unbearable on his sensitive cock. As he pulls out, he hears her unwilling keen, her walls squeezing around his softening cock wanting him to stay inside her, filling her up. He pulls out as the two of them pant, breathless. He reaches over, taking a tissue from the box on the table always provided in each room.
While she is preoccupied with regaining control of her breathing, eyes closed and head against the mirror, he parts her legs and stares at her wet entrance- his come dripping out mixed with her fluids. He wipes her clean, enjoying how she shivered and squirmed, clenching around air, then cleaned his own cock.
“You’re so wet” he says, eyes full of mirth as her eyes are still closed but her cheeks now burn pink.
“So...” He continues, brushing a few strands of her hair behind her ear. Her eyes flutter open and stare at him through long, dark lashes. He swallows hard. Wants to have her all over again.
A quick glance at the clock and he finishes what he was saying. “There’s still ten minutes. What shall it be? The couch or the chair?” She exhales long and slow, eyes flutter closed again.
Afraid, his eyes show silent worry, thinking he pushed her too much, too hard. But then a slow smile spreads across her lips.
“Whichever.” When her eyes open again, she looks at him through tired but dark, lidded eyes. “Let’s make the most of what time we have.”
With a growl he launches himself at her again, this time lifting her up so her legs wrapped around his waist as he maneuvered them off the table and to the couch, hands roaming and tugging off each other’s sweaters.
This was going to be the best ten minutes pre-performance ever.
Pairings: Yoochun/fc
Rating: NC-17
Summary: There’s just so many times you say no. Then you just...cave.
A/N: Oneshot of het!smut, blame my muse at 1.00 in the morning~
Down hallways she ran, past numerous rooms with numbers labeled, numbers flying by her. She was scared, scared out of her mind, scared out of her wits wondering why she took this job.
An innocent coordinator job, the person who runs through a tight schedule along with the manager, the person supervising shows and interviews to make sure things run smoothly. She kept a good enough relationship with everyone on the job- amiable and friendly.
But each time she would chat with the makeup artist, the photographer, the cameraman or other staff personnel she’d feel it. And look up in the room, searching for the source. And she would always find him staring at her. An intense dark gaze, unwavering, which shook her to the core.
Be it at the other end of the room or just a few feet away, it always had the same effect on her. She made a point never to directly talk to him unless it was a necessity, preferring to get around to the manager or staff if things weren’t going according to plan. Except today.
Today had been a more hectic day than usual. She barely had enough time in the morning to prepare so here she was in the backstage room juggling coffee, notebook, and duties all at once, clad in casual clothes- an oversized dusty pink sweater, tight black leather leggings and gray boots, with her curly hair carelessly rolled into a bun by a pencil. Her black frames rested on the bridge of her nose but kept slipping off.
The staff commented on how nice she looked even though she knew this too laid-back, cutting it close to her work ethic. As he came into the room to prepare for the performance, the staff joked to him on his coordinator’s new look. He only ran his eyes up and down her once before nodding, refusing to outwardly praise her like the other staff did. The same dark eyes were still there.
Only at one point when his make up was being applied did the sleeve of her sweater slip down as she was bending over a table, writing something on paper for a staff. The staff pointed out her collarbone and shoulder were peeking out and with a blush she yanked up the sleeve and nodded a thank you but caught his eyes through the reflection of the mirror. Perhaps it was the eyeliner freshly drawn on his eyes, perhaps it was that peek of skin, but his look made it clear that he wanted to eat her whole at that moment.
As if to confirm it, his tongue slowly peeked out from his mouth and ran across his lips, eyes never leaving hers. Her eyes widened, he smirked. She felt like she was suffocating and she needed to get out of there. Excusing herself, she ran out the door determined to put as much space between him and her as possible.
After running down the long corridor and making a sharp left, she quickly ducks into another empty backstage room- also a dressing room but at the moment unoccupied. There is a dressing table here and a clothes rack as well as two couches facing each other and several armchairs all around a coffee table, but unlike the other room this one isn’t cluttered with props and various things, with staff running around the place. She hears her panting and heartbeat pounding in her ears, nervous since she thought she heard footsteps behind her. No, it couldn’t possibly be- he had to go onstage within fifteen minutes.
She reaches out a hand and grasps the arm of the couch in front of her, hanging her head so she looks at the ground. She groans, trying to focus and chant to herself that after today it will be over and a new fresh day will start tomorrow. Or she could always call in sick and get a day of rest.
“I’ve got you now, my uljjang coordinator”
She looks up, face to face with him.
“Y-Yoo-Yoochun ssi-” she begins, ready to draw up a mask and warn him about being late for the performance but he puts a finger to her lips.
“We’ve been beating around the bush for god-knows-how-long and I’ve just about had it. The sexual tension’s killing me.”
She hears the click of a lock falling in place as his hand closes the door. He yanks the pencil out of her hair, her hair bounces down around her shoulders before it settles. He moves forward so their chests are touching, his hands place on her hips. She flinches. He stares down at her, dark and lustful.
“So, where would you like? The table, the couch, or the armchair? Take your pick.”
Her eyes grow large behind her frames as she side-steps to escape. Obviously he anticipates that move as he sighs and effortlessly moves to the side as well, blocking her with his body as his grip on her hips tightened. He pushes her backwards until she hits the dressing table and sits heavily on it. He pushes himself between her legs.
His hands run up and down her thighs before swiftly reaching up and pulling down her sweater, exposing her shoulders and collarbone. She jumps, then whimpers. His face is almost touching hers, his lips inches away breathing on her cheek.
“Don’t tell me you don’t want this as well.”
With shaking breaths, her eyes slowly travel up to meet his. His long hair had been curled into waves and tied back so only a few wisps escaped and framed his face, his smooth skin, liquid dark eyes, red lips. And of course the eyeliner...
No, she couldn’t possibly risk her job all for the sake of how he felt, what he wanted to do. She worked too hard to get a job and she’s not about to let this mess her up.
Her hands shakily grab his to stop the teasing rubbing on her thighs. She feels the crispness of his black sweater along with the white paint flecks painted on the sides to give him a more sleeker silhouette.
“P-please...please...” she can only mumble, breath choking on the next words.
He took that as a sign to continue, contrary to what she wanted, and with a sly, devilish grin he bends down and claims her lips in his. He swallows whatever “no”s she was about to voice and uses it as his chance to pry his tongue into her mouth, making her breathless.
Quickly she tries to pull her head back but one of his hands flies behind her head and keeps it there, the other immediately curling around her waist and pulling her closer to him, sliding her to the edge of the table until her body was in contact with his, being squeezed to him. Her hands push at his chest trying to gain some room because she couldn’t breathe, but the tease only smirked into the kiss, tilting his head for access.
Upon feeling his warm breath softly blow onto her face, calm and steady through his nostrils, she remembered she could breathe through her nose not her mouth, and took deep, erratic breaths as if to steady the ravaging of her mouth and lips by him. She felt like he could probably go on for hours, a born natural. But at that moment his nose bumped against the frames of her glasses and with a mutter of “useless thing” he slides them off her nose and casts them to the side.
“Next time, wear contacts.”
And he went right back to devouring her. She whined and pushed at him to go away, to leave her alone, trying to jerk her head away but it was only once she gave up all resistance and went slack did he pull away and look down at her triumphantly, finally conquering her. He takes the sight in.
Knowing nowhere else to look, she looks up at him, trying to get air back into her lungs, body heaving with deep, shaky breaths as she leaned against the mirror tiredly. He looks down at her swollen, red lips and decides he likes the sight before bending over and flicking his tongue over them one more time, feeling her jerk.
“Stop...please, stop” she begs, even as his tongue still traces over the shape of her lips with her words.
“Nope, I don’t plan to.” He replies coolly to her, feeling her shake in his hold.
He smiles. It’s been too long since he has been able to do something like this- been able to claim, been able to chase, been able to kiss, been able to love. And ever since that pretty little thing walked in one day and introduced herself, she had never left his eyesight. He made it known to others to keep their distance for she was his and he would claim her one day. Whether she liked it or not.
“I-I have a boyfr-”
“I see no ring on your finger” he interjects and smiles triumphantly when he sees the despair in her eyes at how her lie didn’t work. She looked away, chin unconsciously resting against his shoulder as her hands gripped the sweater on his arms tightly in bunches.
He inwardly chuckles, imagining her furrowed brow and worried eyes on that cute face. He brings his free hand, the other still around her waist, up to her back between her shoulder blades, rubbing it soothingly. He wasn’t going to let this chance pass him by and as she was still preoccupied with whatever thoughts she had, he closed his mouth around the tempting, appetizing soft spot of her neck that was right in front of him. He hears her soft gasp but continues to wet the spot- biting and sucking on it, determined to leave a mark so she would have no choice but to keep her hair down.
He felt pressure at his shoulders, her hands trying to push him away again. He lets go of the spot and directs his attention to her ear where he nips the lobe and whispers, “The more you resist, the more persuaded and bold I will get.” His tongue travels over the shell of her ear slowly, teasingly.
Only a soft, keen whine met his ears. He feels her head lean against his shoulder and suddenly feels wetness against his neck and the collar of his shirt, realizing she was silently crying.
Turning his head to the side, he presses a kiss to her cheek, tasting salty tears before whispering, “I can make you cry and feel a thousand times better. Shall we try?”
And without even waiting for the answer, the hand on her back suddenly dips low, under her sweater, undoing the clasp of her bra and now roaming across her bare back, rubbing soft circles over soft skin. He could feel trembling, still unwilling, but he only smiled against the crook of her neck. She still wouldn’t look at him. Through the mirror’s reflection he grinned devilishly at himself, then looking at her back facing him in the mirror, legs part and his body in between.
‘On the table it is then’ he thinks to himself.
The hand along her back momentarily stills its rubbing while the hand around her waist dipped into the waistband of her leggings, slowly trying to coax them off. He feels her tense and her hands latch on tightly at his arms, still whispering under her breath, “Nonononono-”
He seductively whispers in her ear, “Yes. And I’m not stopping.” He pulls back a bit so she can hide no more against his shoulder and envelopes her lips in another kiss. This time both his hands work simultaneously- one hand slowly traveling up to cup one breast under her bra while the other steadily lowers both leggings and panty at once. He could tell she was confused, not knowing what to make of each one of these sensations or where to put her hand to stop first- his kissing or his touches and tugging. Right now all she could do was hang on and continue breathing against his forceful kisses.
With a grunt, the hand teasing her breast suddenly wraps around her waist to lift her up so he could fully remove the leggings. With a gasp she grabs onto his shoulders tightly, not knowing why she was suddenly being lifted, unknowingly making the process easier for him. He pulls off her boots and lets them fall to the floor with a thud, and finally strips off her leggings and panty at once, letting them fall to the floor before breaking the kiss and stepping back to admire his handiwork.
Luckily for her, the oversized sweater was long and hit just a few inches above her knees. Her bare butt felt cold on the wooden table but both her hands blew to the hem of the seater, pulling it down to hide as much of her body as she could. She looked down at the floor humiliated, not daring to look up to meet his eyes. His gaze travels over her long legs to her scared eyes. Using his hand to tilt her head up to meet his gaze, he keeps his eyes sincere and murmurs, “You’re beautiful.”
He sees genuine shock in her eyes. “You’re beautiful, ever since I first saw you. Never forget that.”
His hand wraps itself again around her bare waist as she shivers at the touch. “Beautiful...beautiful...”
With each whisper he lays a soft kiss on her face, her neck, her shoulders, the other hand back to teasing her under her bra. By now her eyes are closed and her hands slowly travel up his shoulders to hug his neck, breaths shaky.
“Beautiful” He slowly rocks himself against her, knowing she was now bare and could feel the roughness of his clothes and the bulge in his pants. He hears the soft moan from the back of her throat and kisses a trail from her neck up her jawline to her lips, open in silent gasps. By now his arms didn’t have to do any work- she was hugging herself tightly to him close enough as it was.
Again the hand fondling her goes down to his pants, unbuckling them in no time and letting them, boxers and all, pool around his ankles. He slips out of his shoes, already barefoot since he hated socks. Both hands on her waist now, he rocks against her spread legs, knowing she felt his erection with the sudden gasp and jerk she made. She pulls back from his kisses and looks down, down at his black sweater covering his erection, but the bulge still there, poking at the sweater.
“Yes or no?” Yoochun licks a wet stripe just under her jawline, at the spot where her pulse hummed. He already knew what the answer would be. He grinds his hips into her body, feeling his sweater ride up and his erection finally make contact with her clit, skin to skin. Her whole body shivers and in a soft breath she says, “...yes.”
That’s all he needed. Their next kiss is sloppy, dirty. Tongues mesh, wet and everywhere, both not hiding their moans anymore. Yoochun hikes her legs up so they wrap around his waist, teasing her and grinding up against her body making her wet and clench around air constantly as if trying to pull him in. Her hands have slipped under his sweater and rub circles against his chest and back, never stopping, always moving.
“Ready?” He whispers against her lips and using his hands to brace himself against either side of the table. The head of his cock slides into her easily, now that she was fully wet. She cries out, closing her eyes and arching her back, neck straining and head thrown back. Her legs and hands squeeze against his waist and shoulders. His eyes travel over her face and pale neck, trying hard not to just ram into her over and over, fuck her fast and hard into the table reducing her into a mess under him. Oh yes, he would definitely do this again and again from now on.
Slowly he continued pushing in, feeling her walls clench around him, pulling him in faster, further. Once he was fully inside of her they both moan long and low, breath intermingling. His eyes meet hers as they flash amusedly and she blushes and looks away. He loves it.
Without a warning his hands grip her hips as he pulls out completely and thrusts back in up to the hilt. His body touches hers, rubbing against her clit. He hears her cry and sees her arch her back, trying to take more of him in. He decides from now he likes her cries and wants to hear more. He pulls out and rams in again, over and over, stimulating her and making her cry or moan his name with each thrust. Then he uses his hand to lift her leg up to his shoulder and that makes him hit a spot in her that makes her gasp louder and clench down even harder.
Just a few more thrusts aimed at that angle and she comes. Suddenly the warmth surrounding him is even slicker and wetter. With a few quick thrusts he comes inside her, coating her insides with white as she squeezes tight around him, making the friction almost unbearable on his sensitive cock. As he pulls out, he hears her unwilling keen, her walls squeezing around his softening cock wanting him to stay inside her, filling her up. He pulls out as the two of them pant, breathless. He reaches over, taking a tissue from the box on the table always provided in each room.
While she is preoccupied with regaining control of her breathing, eyes closed and head against the mirror, he parts her legs and stares at her wet entrance- his come dripping out mixed with her fluids. He wipes her clean, enjoying how she shivered and squirmed, clenching around air, then cleaned his own cock.
“You’re so wet” he says, eyes full of mirth as her eyes are still closed but her cheeks now burn pink.
“So...” He continues, brushing a few strands of her hair behind her ear. Her eyes flutter open and stare at him through long, dark lashes. He swallows hard. Wants to have her all over again.
A quick glance at the clock and he finishes what he was saying. “There’s still ten minutes. What shall it be? The couch or the chair?” She exhales long and slow, eyes flutter closed again.
Afraid, his eyes show silent worry, thinking he pushed her too much, too hard. But then a slow smile spreads across her lips.
“Whichever.” When her eyes open again, she looks at him through tired but dark, lidded eyes. “Let’s make the most of what time we have.”
With a growl he launches himself at her again, this time lifting her up so her legs wrapped around his waist as he maneuvered them off the table and to the couch, hands roaming and tugging off each other’s sweaters.
This was going to be the best ten minutes pre-performance ever.