"Seriously? Right here?" Beom muttered under his breath, his voice barely audible over the sound of their laughter.
But Sasha wasn't stopping. His hands moved to Aaliyah's waist, sliding her panties down with practiced ease, his movements confident and unhurried. The sound of fabric rustling filled the room as he removed her bra, exposing her to the dim light. Aaliyah's laughter turned to soft moans as Sasha's lips found her neck, trailing kisses down her collarbone.
Beom's jaw tightened, his fingers clenching into fists on his lap. He wasn't sure if it was anger, disgust, or something else entirely, but the sight in front of him was enough to make his blood boil. And then, Sasha glanced at him.
That damned smirk.
Beom felt a surge of heat rise to his face, his pulse quickening as Sasha locked eyes with him for a brief moment. It wasn't just a glance—it was deliberate, challenging, as if Sasha was daring him to react. The smirk on Sasha's lips only deepened as he returned his attention to Aaliyah, kissing her with even more fervor.
"This son of a bitch... here, in front of me," Beom muttered, his voice low and sharp. His eyes burned into the back of Sasha's head, his teeth grinding together in frustration.
And then Sasha pulled away from Aaliyah, his smirk turning into something almost predatory. "So," Sasha began, his voice dripping with amusement, "what do you think about a threesome, Aaliyah?"
Beom's heart stopped for a moment, his breath catching in his throat. He didn't just say that, Beom thought, his mind racing. His eyes flicked to Aaliyah, hoping—praying—she'd shut the idea down immediately.
But instead, Aaliyah laughed softly, her smirk matching Sasha's. "I don't mind having one," she said, her voice light and teasing, but her gaze flickered toward Beom, sharp and assessing.
"Are they both for real right now?" Beom thought, his mind a chaotic mess of disbelief and irritation. His teeth clenched as he stared at them, his fists tightening in his lap.
"Come on, Beom," Aaliyah said, her voice taking on a sultry edge as she leaned slightly in his direction. "You'll love it."
Beom's head snapped toward her, his glare sharp enough to cut through steel. Love it? Was she serious? His mind screamed at the absurdity of it all, his thoughts tumbling over themselves in a chaotic spiral.
What the hell is wrong with these two? Are they playing some kind of sick joke? Do they think I'm going to just... agree to this?
His chest tightened, anger and confusion warring within him. He felt trapped, cornered by the intensity of their gazes and the suffocating tension in the room. The air felt too thick, too hot, as though it was pressing down on him, making it impossible to breathe.
Beom's jaw tightened, his thoughts a storm of indignation. Sasha's just doing this to mess with me. He's always testing boundaries, always pushing buttons. And her? What's her deal? She's married, for God's sake! Does none of that matter to her?
He wanted to shout, to tell them both to knock it off and leave him the hell alone. But the words caught in his throat, the weight of their expectations pressing down on him. Instead, he forced himself to stay silent, his glare speaking volumes as he fought to keep his composure.
Beom's eyes flickered down as he shifted uncomfortably, his breath hitching when he noticed the undeniable evidence of his arousal pressing against his pants. His jaw tightened as a wave of frustration and disbelief washed over him.
"What the... No, no, no," he muttered under his breath, running a hand through his hair. His body was betraying him, and he hated it. His mind screamed to resist, to stand firm, but the tension in the room and the sultry gaze of Aaliyah were unraveling his resolve thread by thread.
"Come on, Beom," Aaliyah said, her voice honeyed, her smile soft yet undeniably provocative. Her words slithered into his ears like a forbidden temptation.
Beom let out a heavy sigh, closing his eyes as if doing so would block out the reality before him. His thoughts swirled in chaos, battling between resistance and surrender.
"Just this once. This once, and it doesn't mean anything," he told himself, his defenses crumbling under the weight of the moment. "It's just physical. I'll regret it later, but right now... I just need to get this out of my system."
With that thought as his last feeble justification, Beom stood, the act feeling almost mechanical. He reached for the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head, his movements deliberate yet hesitant.
Aaliyah's smile widened as he stepped closer to her. The way she opened her arms to him felt both inviting and dangerous, but he pushed the warning signs aside. When their bodies connected, her warmth enveloped him, and he felt her arms wrap around his back, holding him tightly.
Beom buried his face in her neck for a moment, inhaling her scent. His hands slid down her sides, tracing her curves as his lips found hers. The kiss was slow at first, a tentative exploration that quickly grew deeper, hungrier.
"It's been so long..." he thought as his hands roamed, brushing against her soft skin. "Too long since I've felt this kind of connection, even if it's fleeting. Even if it's wrong."
He pulled away briefly, his lips moving to her neck, then lower. His hands cupped her breasts, kneading them gently before his mouth found its way to one of her nipples. He captured it between his lips, swirling his tongue around the hardened peak, drawing a soft moan from her.
"She feels so good," he thought, his mind clouded with a haze of desire. "I shouldn't be doing this, but right now, nothing else matters. Just this moment. Just her."
His free hand traveled lower, brushing against her folds, his touch tentative yet deliberate. He could feel her body responding to him, her breaths coming quicker, her grip on his shoulders tightening.
"I've been holding back for so long, suppressing every need, every want," Beom thought, his actions driven by instinct now. "Maybe I deserve this—just once. Just to feel alive again."
His lips trailed back up to hers, capturing her in another kiss as his thoughts spiraled further into the fog of the moment.
Beom leaned in close, his lips brushing against Aaliyah's ear as he whispered, his voice low and teasing, "You asked for it. So when I'm going fast, don't tell me to stop." A sly smirk played on his lips, his tone dripping with both confidence and challenge.
Before she could respond, Beom took control, flipping her onto all fours with practiced ease. The sudden movement elicited a soft gasp from Aaliyah, her body arching instinctively. Beom's smirk deepened as he spat into his palm, his movements deliberate and unhurried. He coated himself with his saliva, the slickness easing his entrance as he positioned himself behind her.
Without hesitation, Beom thrust into her in one swift motion, the sensation overwhelming him immediately. Aaliyah cried out, her moan loud and unrestrained, echoing through the confined space.
Beom gritted his teeth, his breath hitching as the tight warmth enveloped him. "Aah," he let out, his voice tinged with pleasure. He bit down on his bottom lip, his brows furrowing as he began to move, each thrust deeper and more powerful than the last.
"It feels so damn good," he thought, the sensation and the control coursing through him like electricity. He couldn't deny the rush, the heat pooling in his core, the way her body responded to his every movement.
"Aahh... nghh... mhmmm," Aaliyah moaned beneath him, her voice breathy and filled with need. She matched his rhythm, her hips moving against him, her moans driving him further into a state of unrelenting desire.
All the while, Sasha sat in the corner, silent but ever-watchful, a cigarette resting between his fingers. His gaze was fixed not on Aaliyah, but on Beom. His eyes roved over Beom's body, the flexing of his muscles, the way his hips moved with precision and strength. Sasha took a slow drag of his cigarette, exhaling the smoke lazily, his expression unreadable.
Beom didn't notice at first, too caught up in the heat of the moment, but the weight of Sasha's gaze soon became impossible to ignore. His skin prickled with awareness, and then he felt it—Sasha's hand, bold and unapologetic, reaching to grab his ass.
The contact sent a shockwave through Beom, snapping him out of his haze. His reflexes kicked in instantly, his hand shooting back to grab Sasha's wrist in a vice-like grip. He turned his head, his eyes blazing with irritation and a warning clear in his tone.
"Don't you fucking dare touch my ass, or I'll break your fucking fingers," Beom growled, his voice low and dripping with venom.
Sasha's lips curled into an amused chuckle, unbothered by Beom's threat. He raised his free hand in mock surrender, the cigarette still perched between his fingers. "Relax, Tiger," Sasha said, his tone smooth and teasing. "I'm just appreciating the view."
Beom's glare hardened, and with a sharp movement, he threw Sasha's hand away as if discarding a piece of trash. "Keep your hands to yourself," Beom spat, his voice sharp and final.
Turning his attention back to Aaliyah, Beom resumed his movements, his rhythm unbroken. His irritation with Sasha only fueled his intensity, each thrust harder and more precise, as if to prove a point. Sasha leaned back, watching the scene unfold with an infuriatingly casual demeanor, the occasional chuckle escaping his lips as he enjoyed the tension he was clearly stirring.
"This bastard," Beom thought, his teeth gritting against his growing frustration. "Why the hell does he always have to push my buttons?" But he shoved those thoughts aside, focusing instead on Aaliyah and the moment at hand.
Beom continued his movements, feeling the tension mount until he finally pulled out, releasing onto her back. His breath came in short, shallow gasps, and he closed his eyes, letting the moment wash over him with a strange mix of relief and detachment.
"Haaah, that felt good," Aaliyah sighed, her voice soft and languid as she laid her head on Beom's thigh, a slight smile playing on her lips. Beom barely registered her words. Without much thought, he reached for the vodka bottle, unscrewing the cap and taking a deep swig, feeling the sharp burn settle in his stomach.
As he let the warmth of the alcohol seep into his body, his mind drifted, a vague sense of unease creeping over him. What was he doing here? The whole situation felt surreal, like he was watching it from outside himself, unable to fully connect with what was happening. He took another sip, trying to drown the quiet discomfort that tugged at his thoughts.
Just then, he felt a sudden shift beside him. Sasha, with a mischievous glint in his eye, pulled Aaliyah's legs closer, her body moving with his. She laughed softly, a half-hearted protest slipping from her lips. "No, wait… let's wait a little," she said, though her flushed cheeks and eager gaze betrayed her willingness. But Sasha ignored her words, leaning down to capture her breast in his mouth, making her gasp in surprise.