Jae-geon tossed his rain-soaked, heavy chef’s uniform onto the floor and headed straight for the bathroom.

Whoosh—through the refreshing stream of water, Hae-som’s face, which had looked quite flustered, appeared white as mist.

“Does she even answer when I call? Ignoring calls is Seong Hae-som’s specialty, isn’t it?”

That must have been around the time he joined the conversation. The sound of the pounding rain made it hard to hear, so he approached her without any pretense of saving face.

“By the way, how did you know we had a company dinner that day?”

The look in the man’s eyes—which seemed to mirror Cha Ji-won’s—suddenly triggered a bout of PTSD. He might even be a step above Cha Ji-won.

There was no trace of affection in the way he looked at Hae-som. Love-hate, perhaps.

It was a far cry from the attitude he’d shown when he’d said, “Please take good care of Hae-som.” What other story lay behind that?

Had he not yet managed to sever their relationship properly? Judging by his talk of “staying in touch,” it seemed as though Hae-som was the one keeping her distance against his will.

No matter how much he tried to erase or let go of it, the innocent, youthful afterimage—the kind you’d only see among peers of the same age—wouldn’t fade. Since this was something effort alone couldn’t bridge, it was a complete defeat for Jae-geon.

Squeak. Jae-geon rubbed his furious member hard with body wash squeezed into the palm of his hand. Sighs escaped between the thick lather.

His stomach tightened, and tendons bulged beneath his well-defined abdominal muscles. The constricted glans began to throb and pulsate in his hand.

The bright red skin, which seemed on the verge of ejaculation after just three or four strokes, was swollen and hot.

As he tightened his grip, his lower back arched forward. Just as he was about to collapse and reached out to brace himself against the wall, increasing the pace of his stroking,

Ding-dong, ding-dong.

The clear ring of the doorbell cut through the sound of rain and running water.

With no time to rinse off the soap suds, and no patience to turn off the faucet, Jae-geon just wrapped a towel around himself and headed straight for the front door. Her lips, cold and numb, trembled as she stammered for a long while.

“How long have I been waiting for you? How much I’ve been worried sick.”

Not a single word. That infuriating Hae-som.

Only when his patience finally ran out did her tightly pursed lips part.

“The front door code is different from the one for the gate…”

Her slender waist bent without hesitation as she stepped inside. The body he lifted in one swift motion felt cold.

As he lowered his head to share his warmth, Hae-som pressed her lips against his as if she’d been waiting for it.

With a soft chuckle, the man’s lips gently covered hers.

Pulling Hae-som to safety beneath the warm stream of water, Jae-geon stood with her body cradled in his arms. He clenched his jaw at the arrogant throbbing beneath her hips.

She’s not someone to be treated lightly.

She said it was her first time, so it must be her first time—it has to be her first time.

Barely holding onto the thread of reason that was about to break free in the steamy heat, he anchored it somewhere deep in his brain. Then, Jae-geon counted the number of buttons studding Hae-som’s chef’s uniform.

He wasn’t without the intention to scold her.

It was infuriating that she kept tormenting him with that innocent, innocent face. And this was another first.

“I was rushing over.”

“What was so urgent?”

It seemed she’d been in such a hurry that she’d even forgotten to change out of her work clothes.

Jae-geon gritted his teeth as he undid Hae-som’s buttons. His penis throbbed in rhythmic pulses at the sight of the faint outline of her nipples visible through the thick bra lining.

His fingers twisted the straps draped over her snow-white shoulders, then unhooked the clasp at her back. His hand slid down her curved lower back, gripped her hips, and pressed her tightly against his body. Haa, haa—her breath, racing to its limit, seeped into Jae-geon’s chest.

“Seong Hae-som.”

Even though they hadn’t really done anything yet, Hae-som’s focus had already drifted.

If she fell asleep like this, Jae-geon would be the only one left feeling wronged. Faced with the reality that he had to be considerate even in this situation, Jae-geon let out a hollow laugh.

“I asked what was so urgent.”

As he bit down on her bare breast, which had slipped down and was swaying, her slender waist suddenly arched upward. His hand, which had been gripping her hips so tightly it felt like it would crush them, moved without hesitation to the buckle of her pants.

“Huh?”

In contrast to her narrow waist, her hips were quite wide, so it took quite a while just to pull them down. As her underwear was revealed with a dull thud—the sound of damp fabric hitting the floor—Jae-geon let out a low groan.

Why did these plain, plain-looking underwear—which seemed to have absolutely no intention of looking sexy—turn him on so much?

“I was worried you might misunderstand.”

“What are you talking about?”

As if to say, “You know exactly what I mean, so why are you pretending not to?” Hae-som furrowed her delicate brow.

“We’ve known each other since we were kids. I even know the monk.”

So they were fellow novice monks?

Laughing without a care at this bizarre story, Jae-geon knelt between her legs and lowered his gaze. As he pulled the scrap of fabric covering her crotch aside, a smooth, hairless triangle of skin was revealed.

The deeper he looked, the redder the skin became, and his face flushed for no apparent reason.

“If you’re really suspicious, just ask.”

“What exactly am I supposed to be suspicious of?”

“Last time, when you were drunk—or rather, half-asleep—you asked if I was sleeping around with just anyone.”

He’d acted all cool and nonchalant when she’d asked if he’d used protection, but it seemed he’d been holding onto that thought the whole time.

Unfortunately, there was no need for a long explanation. The dry, red skin, showing no signs of leakage, was proof enough.

The tip of his tongue, held straight, licked along the vertical slit. The thin labia, as delicate as dumpling wrappers, quivered and clung to his lips.

Only after he sucked on her protruding clitoris did the dry entrance finally become moist.

“Ssh.”

At that moist, sensual sound, blood rushed to his penis with a thud. His aching lower back twitched with the urge to split open her labia and thrust inside at any moment. There was absolutely no time to make it to the bed.

“Huh, ahh.”

“Ugh.”

A low moan burst from between Jae-geon’s teeth. It was because sticky love juice had dripped down during the brief pause. It landed right on his penis.

With friction eased by the lubricant Hae-som had sprayed, Jae-geon buried his lips between her trembling legs and moved the hand gripping his penis.

Slap! Slap! Slap-slap! As if in response to the accelerating friction, the breath pouring over her head grew ragged.

“Ugh!”

With a short moan, a delicate stream gushed from the most supple flesh of her body. At the same moment, as Jae-geon ejaculated a white fluid, Hae-som collapsed into his arms and babbled as if in a dream.

“I’m not sleepy yet, Chef……”

---

The two of them collapsed together onto the sheets, which were stiff as if they’d been soaked in water.

Gripping her chin, which kept trying to slip away, he thrust his tongue deep into her throat. He really liked the sensation of the delicate mucous membrane pulsing and swallowing him. Even though this wasn’t his first kiss, it felt new.

Was it because his partner was a first-timer that he was getting so swept up in the moment?

He had absolutely no idea why. And that was driving him even crazier.

‘I’m not sleepy yet, Chef…’

If there was a problem, it was that the feeling of being toyed with by the mischievous Hae-som wasn’t all that bad.

—Haah, Chef…—

His hand, which had been pinching her stiff nipples between his fingers and kneading her breasts, soon traced the graceful curves of her body before moving down to his penis.

Jae-geon pushed himself up by bracing his knees between her trembling legs, slipped a condom over his equally drenched glans, and lowered his upper body.

As his frantically erect penis touched the narrow entrance, the pelvic muscles—which had seemed to relax—spurted clear fluid like a lion’s roar and then contracted again. While the tightly closed opening was painfully frustrating, it also felt pleasurable.

He was deeply worried about whether the narrow hole could even handle it.

“Why aren’t you doing it?”

She was even urging him on.

With no patience left, he gave up resisting and gently lowered his lower body. He was about to push the blunt tip of his penis into a gap so tight it could barely fit a single finger. The man flinched and pulled back, a dimple-like curve forming in the hollow of his buttocks.

Hooking his index finger over the corner of Hae-som’s mouth, as if hooking a fish with a fishing hook, Jae-geon whispered.

“If it hurts, bite down as hard as it hurts.”

He’d try to adjust both the speed and the force.

As if that weren’t the issue right now, Hae-som fixed her gaze on the object pressing against her lower back. Unable to bear the explicit sight, the tension in her neck eased. Her small face, leaning back against the pillow, was filled with worry and anxiety.

What if he says I’m too soft?

A worried gaze and anxious lips touched the scar on Hae-som’s forehead. Just as she was about to pull away, her hips were held back by a hand as delicate as a maple leaf.

“Seom.”

“…….”

“What do I do when it feels good? When it feels good?”

Could a pleading gaze be any more intoxicating than this?

Instead of answering, Jae-geon gently teased Hae-som’s entrance with his middle finger. He intended to proceed gently until her tension eased and all her minor anxieties vanished.

With a series of wet, slurping sounds reaching a crescendo, he carefully adjusted the angle of his penis to prepare for entry, then finally gave his long-overdue reply.

“Swallow it.”