Chapter Text
Paris, France
HQ Event
12:30 am
The city glowed behind you like a film set. Your heels ached, but you didn’t dare move.
His eyes remained glued to yours– calculating. Observing.
A group passed behind you, laughing a bit too loud. He used it to his advantage, snaking a firm touch to your back, guiding you gently away in a quick pulse.
“I want to leave.” He said.
Your throat went dry. “You do?”
A beat.
“Yes.”
But he didn’t move. Instead, he stepped a bit closer, just enough so you had to tilt your head up to meet his gaze. He looked at your lips, then at your throat, then back to your eyes.
“Will you come with me?”
You faltered for a moment, his eyes unbelievably intimidating. “Where?”
He smirked briefly, amusement sweeping through him. “That’s not an answer.”
You opened your mouth, searching your mind for what to say.
Your voice barely came out a whisper, “Are you sure you want to…”
The thought was lost. Caught between confusion and disbelief.
He took a breath to answer. His chest rising slowly. But then, the elevator dinged.
A sharp burst broke the tension immediately. Jin-Woo straightened slightly, expression flipped. A group of executives piled out, one of them gesturing toward him.
“Mr. Sung,” a tall man approached. “Chairman Lee is requesting your presence upstairs.”
A brief pause. “ Immediately .”
His jaw tensed– enough for them to see.
He held your gaze. “I’ll be back,” he said, quiet and firm.
You nodded, staying right where he was leaving you. Because what he really meant was, “Wait here.”
Paris, France
HQ Event
12:48 am
His absence was deafening.
You couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe right.
Everything buzzed in your mind, playing back with a burst of adrenaline.
All of the fittings. The accidental touches. The way he had watched you with unmatched observation.
And then there was tonight. The way he made you lift your dress… commanding you like he owned your body more than your own skin.
There was something about it that was terrifying. Exhilarating, but nerve racking.
There was always the option to leave. But the voice inside your head, the burning yearn to find out more, told you to stay.
To wait.
And so you took your post a bit near the back, shifting slightly from the bar as the guests got consistently drunker.
Your glass of champagne had started to go warm in your hand, untouched. You weren’t sure how long it had been since his slick frame had disappeared behind that elevator. Minutes? An hour?
It was tough waiting. But his command rang like a ghost in your ear.
So you continuously scanned the crowd for him— subtly, obediently.
Maybe he wouldn’t come back. Maybe the night would end right here. With a pit in your stomach the size of your heart.
And then. The crowd shifted.
Your eyes snapped toward the main entrance.
It was him.
He emerged like the night was following. Tall, commanding, his tux hugging every muscle, somehow looking darker. Your eyes drifted to his unbuttoned jacket, the crisp white shirt laying slightly open underneath.
People turned. Chatter ensued. Cameras frantically flashing. Their lights bounced off the dazzling chandeliers in a dizzy pandemonium.
And the press threw questions like knives.
“Mr. Sung, can you comment on Chairman Lee’s announcement?”
“What does this mean for the future of the guild?”
“Mr. Sung, over here!”
He didn’t flinch. Didn’t acknowledge.
Instead he walked straight through them, unblinking, unhurried. They parted for him instinctively, like he was bending gravity.
And his eyes. God his eyes… they were unapologetically locked to yours.
He didn’t stop until he reached you. His figure looming like a demonic shadow.
Within seconds he grabbed your wrist. His touch like a jolt of lightning pricking your insides.
And without warning, he leaned down, mouth barely from your ear.
“Exchange.”
Paris, France
Your Apartment
12:53 am
The world blinked.
One second you were in the ballroom. Bright lights, people, his hand around your wrist—
And then…
Silence. Warm shadows. A bolt of energy.
Your bedroom.
The soft thump of your heels landing on the floor was the only sound. You tripped a half-step, his arm catching you instantly.
You were familiar with his powers, but…this. This was electric. He had completely transported you. In a fucking blink of an eye.
Your expression feigned complete awe, although he clearly didn’t have time for that.
He stood over you like a man who was past the point of return. Silent and intense.
“H-how…” You trailed off hazily, “how’d you find my apartment?”
His expression dragged up your frame. A blatant disregard for such an irrelevant question.
“You wore the lingerie.” He said.
You swallowed.
“...yes.”
He nodded. His head angled to meet yours.
“You waited.”
Another pulse. “Yes.”
He took another step. So close you held your breath to stay sane.
“I’ve been patient,” His voice was deep as he walked you backward, “Letting you touch me every day. Button my shirts. Fix my collar.”
He paused, releasing a gruff sigh. “You know what that did to me?”
You shook your head no. Heat rising up your spine.
“And tonight,” he murmured, rubbing a faint circle over your temple, “You obeyed me so well.” He bit his lip, “You know what that did to me?”
Your knees buckled, so much so he had to keep you steady.
He stepped in again, chest nearly touching yours, hand splayed against the wall beside your head. Your back pressed hard against the surface, cornered under his figure.
Power hummed beneath him.
“God, I want you…” He whispered, tracing his finger down to your lips. His breath danced across your skin, tickling you with edge.
All you could manage was a soft exhale. A clench of a jaw.
He waited painfully long. Letting you bask underneath his body. Squirm under his touch until he deemed you ready.
And then he leaned in. His lips hovering inches above yours. Grazing so god damn soft, barely touching. Just…feeling. Wandering.
He let them dust yours, back and forth. Back and forth. So light it hurt.
Your back arched slightly from the wall. Your body yearning without permission, coiling into his frame with a shred of desperation.
He grazed forward at the movement. A small hum as his mouth finally connected to yours.
He gently fell into you. Slow. Yearning.
You sighed as his soft tongue parted your lips with a supple confidence, a low sound emerging in his throat.
You pressed into him, hands sliding up his silky shoulders in response, wanting to feel every intoxicating curve.
He tasted like heat and sex, like a storm churning inside a man who had been still for too long.
His fingers trailed up your scalp, threading through a thick clump of hair as he coaxed your mouth open further. Wider. His tongue slipping against yours with the finishing suck of your bottom lip, followed by a deep groan.
“I want to see it.” He exhaled, pulling back for a moment.
You stood breathless. Unsure of what he meant. But then his eyes trickled down, resting on the peek of your cleavage, the lace of the lingerie hiding beneath.
You slowly turned, moving your hair aside for him so he could unzip your dress. Your heart pounded, wondering how expertly he would unwrap you to see the present he bought.
“No,” he said, his voice dark.
He let his voice feather on the shell of your ear. “I’ve taken you apart enough times with my eyes.” His hot lips closed around the cartilage, “Now I want to watch.”
A whimper. Small. Juvenile.
But he waited, nipping at your ear lobe in anticipation. Hands wandering along your hips.
You nodded shakily, wondering how you could give him what he wanted.
You reached behind, fingers brushing the zipper. You hesitated– looking over your shoulder. Wondering if you should continue.
His gaze met yours. Dark. Waiting .
And so you took a breath. Carefully, you dragged the zipper down gently. One inch at a time it slid, ticking down each prong for his gaze. It revealed the dripping silk of your skin with every pulse.
You then let the straps slide from your shoulders, baring the top of your back. The cold hair pricked your chest as the swell of your breasts laid exposed beneath the lace of the bustier.
You could hear him sigh. A slight bite of his bottom lip, a shift in his posture.
And then the dress fell lower. And lower. But you didn’t rush.
Instead you peeled it off your hips like a second skin, catching it slightly at the curve of your thighs before letting it fall down in a pool at your heels.
You stepped out of it, turning back to face him. Eyes locked like an innocent doe.
He stared with authority. His jaw tightened, breaths heavy. He let you stand there for a moment, admiring what was clearly his. What he had chosen and the woman who so obediently displayed it for him.
And the lingerie quite simply left nothing to the imagination. In fact, it begged to be removed.
The bra hugged you tightly, lifting your breasts with a sinful perfection. The panties were high-cut, hugging the suppelest curve of your hips. And beneath them, was the glint of a thin garter belt, holding suspender clips that trailed down the tops of your thighs.
You could feel him count the ways he could undo you.
And then, he grinned.
His hand came up, tracing the thin strap at your hip, following it down to where the garter clipped to your delicate stocking.
“Turn around,” he murmured.
You did.
His palm slid up your back, then down again, cupping the curve of your ass through the lace. He squeezed hard, his palm grabbing a fistful of its weight.
A low growl in his throat. “Lie down.”
You obeyed. Lowering against the bed with your back to the sheets– wearing nothing but lace and a growing ache.
Jin-Woo stood at the edge, fully clothed. He unhooked his cuff links, pushing up his sleeves slowly. His gaze dragged across you.
He remained silent. Just observing, thinking. But then, a small clear of his throat.
“Touch yourself.”
Your eyes widened.
He grinned, taunting. “You’re doing so well. You don’t want to stop being good for me, do you?”
Your breath shook, the hesitation overriding. You had never done this in front of a man. Ever.
“Or,” he murmured, leaning in,“I can leave you like this.” His hand slid dangerously up your thigh, “Wet. Needy. Wanting.”
A jolt of embarrassment. Your core was undoubtedly growing moist, his voice alone making it drip.
He paused, waiting for your decision. His hand edging you, showing you what your reward could be.
And so you began. Your hand slid down to your covered opening, carefully moving the panties to the side.
He sat back, jaw tense, eyes dark with hunger.
You did as you were told.
Your fingers grazed against your center, sliding your index finger in between its lips. You closed your eyes, rubbing a small circle against your clit.
“Slower,” he said.
You obeyed, dragging your fingers through your slick folds, swallowing a moan as you brushed your growing clit at a gentler pace.
The sensation was so sharp, especially with him watching you. You immediately wanted to let go, your body flooding with a pulsing need.
You continued massaging, rubbing deep circles while a sharp sigh fell from your lips.
“Good,” he smirked. “Keep going.”
You bit your lip, hips rolling involuntarily. Your other hand clenched the sheets, eyes starting to flutter from that delicious heat rising in your belly.
“Now,” he said, leaning forward. His voice was coated in steel, “tell me.”
“T-t-tell you…” you whispered, breathless. “Tell you, what?”
“What you want.”
You sighed mercilessly without warning. Your fingers still moving at his determined pace.
“I…” A shiver of pleasure hit you. Your legs tightened as you hit a particular spot.
“I’m waiting.” He said calmly.
You tore your mind back to reality. Attempting to focus. “I want you to…”
He waited, head cocked to the side. God he looked fucking amazing like that.
“...to touch me.”
“Where?”
“My…my breasts. My thighs. Everywhere.”
He smirked, and leaned in. “Not good enough.”
His hand ghosted up your leg once more. It was tortuously soft, careful not to touch where you needed it the most.
You let out a pathetic cry.
“I want your hands on me,” you tried again. “On my pussy. I want you to—”
He cut you off with a look.
“Just my hands?” He loomed closer. His fingers dragging dangerously close to your now dripping center.
His nose dragged over you like a dog memorizing a scent, inhaling deeply up your thigh. “No, you want more, don’t you?”
You whimpered, fingers drenched from the wet drip of your slit. His voice was like a sex toy on high.
“I think you want me to take you in my mouth,” he kissed your leg deeply, “And you want to cry for me…beg for me to suck on that pretty little clit…”
Another kiss. Another inch forward. His lips dragged up your skin, open and wet, his tongue flicking over your garter clip as he took it in between his teeth.
You gasped. Hips twitching.
“Did I say you could move?”
You clenched. “N-no.”
“Then don’t.”
His knuckles emerged, brushing against your aching cunt. Observing. Appreciating.
And then he leaned in, exhaling slow and warm against your entrance. Your body jolted. A soft plea releasing.
“I said still.” He reminded you.
You squeezed your eyes shut as he smiled against you. And then one, long, devastating stroke of his tongue wandered up your slit.
You moaned uncontrollably.
His hands held your thighs down, thumb pressing into your skin. Your mouth dropped open, legs shivering in an array of desperation.
He licked you again…sucking you sweetly with soft moans from his throat.
He was playing. Worshipping. His tongue gliding up you like he knew every little spot, every point that would make you cry more pretty sounds for him.
There was no rhythm. No mercy. Just delicious perfection as his throat surged a masculine sound, vibrating through the squelches of your pussy juice.
It was enough to keep you desperately suspended. Your chest heaved, fingers curled against your sheets, back threatening to arch but held down by his inhuman strength.
His tongue circled your clit, lazy, hungry.
Your body started to shake. Hips lifting on instinct, needing more, begging to release the unbearable pleasure. It was too soft. Too delicious.
He pulled back immediately.
You let out a noise. Needy and guttural.
“I said, still .” he said sharply.
“I-I’m sorry.” You gasped.
He reached for his belt, undoing the metal release. “Again.”
“I’m sorry.”
His smile was cruel. “That’s better.”
He returned to you with purpose. Stroking himself as he ripped the lace covering your breast, allowing it to spring free into his mouth.
He sucked longingly on your nipple, rolling the erect bud between his tongue and his teeth.
His hand then drifted back to your pussy, slipping a finger inside with an immediate fullness. Your hips jolted, mind bending from the rush of pleasure.
You felt him smirk as he slid it farther, curling against a spot that you clearly liked.
“You’re going to cum,” he said against your throat. “But not until I say.”
“I can’t…p-p-lease…”
“Yes.” He said darkly. “You can and you will.”
You writhed beneath him, holding on by a thread. He slid another finger in with a deeper precision, admiring your cries as he curled the other.
Back and forth he went. Deeper. Sloppier. Meaner. Your eyes rolled back. Begs growing louder with each pump.
“Now.” He said.
And just like that– you shattered.
Your entire body arched with a snap. Thighs shaking, your hands clawed at the sheets as you broke free, loud and cumming right onto him. You consumed the space between you– rolling, pulsing, and shaking with euphoria.
Jin-Woo held you through it like a child. Your chest heaved as he kissed your neck, fingers still inside as he gathered every last tremor with adoration. All the while his deep voice hummed in your ear, “That’s it sweetheart…” He smiled as his finger flicked inward. “Cum all over daddy my good little slut…”
You collapsed back. Utterly defeated. You lay dazed, doused with sweat—
But it wasn’t over. He instantly shifted, standing on his knees, sliding his pants down to reveal his throbbing cock.
You watched in awe as it sprang free. Thick and flushed, the tip glistened with endless precum. You couldn’t tear your eyes away, never seeing such a beautiful sight.
Without hesitation, you reached for him and—
He caught your wrists, pushing them above your head. He held them tight, tying them in place with the belt he had just removed.
“You don’t touch me,” he growled, looming between your thighs. “I take you.”
And then he entered. One thrust, driving into you. Smooth, deep, groaning.
You gasped with fullness. You felt so raw and so desperate. Swallowing all of him whole– so full you thought your hips would break.
“That’s it…” He sighed, burying himself further. “So good baby, you take me so fucking well…”
Another thrust. His cock reaching deeper. His thickness opened you completely.
Each pump drove breath from your lungs, his groans growing deeper and more hungry as he pulsed his hips.
He fucked you deeper into the mattress, pumping back and forth with a painfully perfect rhythm. He was punishing. Worshipping. He was so fucking powerful.
You wrapped your legs around his torso, forcing yourself to take him as deep as you could– to do anything you could to please him. He moaned, eyes hazy with lust as he felt you. “Yes, just like that sweetheart…” He said through a flexed jaw.
You cried out, walls clenching around him. He gripped your thigh, yanking you into him as he pounded you harder. “Fuck…grip my fucking cock baby, fuck you’re so small…”
You were close again. Too close. You could barely stand it.
“Not yet,” He demanded, quickening his pace with brute force.
You nodded through prickling tears, the squelching of your pussy the only audible sound.
His hand slipped down, rubbing your clit once more. You held onto everything you could, forcing yourself to swallow the pleasure brimming to a boil.
He felt your pussy twitch around him, enough to have him reach his end. He groaned, breathless and authoritative, “Cum with daddy,” he groaned, feeling your thigh shake within his palm. “C’mon sweetheart, give me your fucking cum…”
The coil inside you snapped. You came hard— violently —as he groaned into your neck, spilling inside you. He collapsed onto your forehead, still inside as his hands reached for your wrists in desperation.
You opened wide, accepting all of him, feeling every jerk of his pulsing cock deep in your center. His body pressed against yours, hot and sweaty like he could mold you together permanently.
He sighed, his heart beating against your chest a mile a minute. “Fuck…”
You tilted your head forward, grazing his lips for the lightest kiss. But instead he took you all in, sinking his mouth hard and passionate.
He pulled back, mouth hovering. A small smirk curling up his left cheek. “Again?”