Chapter 43: Valentine’s special: Four more to go (4)

Yoon Seoyul’s hands kept pressing down firmly—both of them now, large and hot—right over the low swell in Cheon Areum’s belly, where the knot protruded visibly beneath the skin. The outline was unmistakable: thick, rounded, pressing outward like a fist trapped under thin silk.

He writhed—desperate, uncoordinated—legs kicking weakly. The knot felt enormous now, locked so tight it seemed fused to him; the constant fullness, combined with the deliberate press of Yoon Seoyul’s hands, turned every nerve into fire. Slick leaked in steady pulses around the seal, warm trails sliding down his thighs, soaking the sheets further, but it did nothing to ease the overwhelming stretch.

He reached down in a hurry—fingers trembling, nails scraping over Yoon Seoyul’s knuckles—trying to pry those unyielding hands away from his belly, but Cheon Areum’s shaky arm’s strength had long since bled away by wave after wave of overstimulation. He couldn’t pry Yoon Seoyul’s hands off his abdomen with force alone, when every muscle felt liquid and his limbs refused to obey. The pressure there—palms molding around the swollen bulge of the knot—kept pushing fresh sobs out of him, each one wetter and more broken than the last.

“Ahhnn… nnn… hah… mmmh… mmmh… mmmhhh…”

He forced his misty eyes open, lashes clumped with tears, vision swimming, to change his strategy, and instead of fighting the grip, he reached up—slow, shaking—fingers sliding into Yoon Seoyul’s dark hair. He tugged weakly, dragging the Yoon Seoyul’s face away from where it had been latched to his chest, lips swollen and glistening from ravishing the reddened buds. Cheon Areum pulled him higher until their faces hovered close, breaths mingling in short, ragged pants. He leaned in the last inch and kissed Yoon Seoyul’s cheek softly, barely more than a brush of lips. Then his mouth found Yoon Seoyul’s—weak, pleading, tasting of salt and tears—as he kissed his lips.

“It hurts me… if you press… mm?”

He mumbled out and asked him with his eyes to know if he understood what he meant. Yoon Seoyul immediately abandoned any thoughts of pressing on his abdomen and moved away his hands to grab Cheon Areum’s face to kiss him instead.

“Mmm!”

Lips puckered, Cheon Areum was kissed with sudden force, but Yoon Seoyul quickly broke the kiss to let him breath too. The feral glaze in Yoon Seoyul’s eyes flickered as his thumbs wiped away the tears from his cheeks, and fingers threaded gently into damp hair at his temples. Then Yoon Seoyul kissed him back—slow, deep, achingly tender. Just lips moving against lips, tongue tracing the seam of Cheon Areum’s mouth with reverent care, swallowing the quiet whimpers that still leaked out.

Cheon Areum melted into the embrace, legs slightly loosening around Yoon Seoyul’s waist, body finally beginning to relax around the persistent fullness. A soft, trembling sigh escaped him when Yoon Seoyul slowly began to grind inside him. The movement was barely there, languid rounds of hips that never threatened to pull the knot free, only stirred it in place with the gentlest possible friction. Noticing Cheon Areum was still stable, Yoon Seoyul didn’t stop.

When he pulled back from the kiss just far enough to breathe, their foreheads rested together, noses brushing.

The grind continued—unhurried, almost reverent. Yoon Seoyul kept the motion shallow, never withdrawing more than a bit before rolling back in, letting the knot rub against that tender front wall until Cheon Areum’s thighs quivered and his breath hitched in soft, needy gasps.

“Can I… move more?”

Yoon Seoyul asked, his voice was low, almost hesitant—rough around the edges from holding back so long. One hand stayed cupped gently against Cheon Areum’s cheek, thumb stroking slow, soothing arcs over the damp skin beneath his eye. The other slid to the back of his neck, fingers rubbing tenderly over the warm teeth mark there. Cheon Areum blinked slowly, lashes heavy and wet.

The world had narrowed to the steady throb of the knot locked deep inside him, the warm vanilla cloud of pheromones wrapping around them both, and the gentle pressure of Yoon Seoyul’s palm against his cheek. His body still hummed with aftershocks, already overstimulated, but thinking it was fine now, he nodded once—small, certain.

“Okay….”

He tilted his head into Yoon Seoyul’s hand, nuzzling against the thumb that still brushed his cheekbone. Another slow inhale pulled more of that dense comforting vanilla scent into his lungs—sweet, grounding, like warm milk and cedar smoke. It settled the last frayed nerves. Cheon Areum’s legs loosened further around Yoon Seoyul’s waist, heels sliding down to rest loosely against the small of his back—not pulling, just holding. His hands found Yoon Seoyul’s shoulders again, fingers curling into warm muscle as another soft sigh slipped past his lips.

Yoon Seoyul’s hips drew back as far as the knot would allow before rolling forward again in a slow, deep grind. He couldn’t trust but still moved inside deeper and deeper, just rocking them together, letting the swollen base drag along Cheon Areum’s inner walls that made them both shudder. Yoon Seoyul groaned low in his throat and pressed his forehead to Cheon Areum’s. His hips kept that same slow rhythm: grind in, grind out just enough to tease the knot against the rim before rolling back in. Each motion built heat without rushing it, coaxing Cheon Areum’s body to flutter and clench around him reflexively.

After a while, Yoon Seoyul’s breathing grew ragged; his hand on Cheon Areum’s nape tightened partially as the slow grind pushed him closer to the edge, and after who knows how long, Yoon Seoyul’s next grind was a little deeper, a little harder, and then he stilled, hips flush, knot pulsing thickly as the first hot spurt flooded deep inside.

“Haa… ngh…”

Cheon Areum gasped weakly, trembling—feeling every pulse, every warm rush pinning his insides. His walls fluttered around the knot in helpless little spasms, milking instinctively as Yoon Seoyul came with low, shuddering groans pressed into the crook of his neck. They stayed locked together—bodies trembling in sync, breaths mingling, hands clutching—while the last waves rolled through them both at the same time. Yoon Seoyul bit into the side of his neck.

“Ahh…”

Cheon Areum’s subconsciously dug deeper into Yoon Seoyul’s back. Yoon Seoyul’s hips pressed flush one final time. He didn’t thrust through it; he simply held still, buried to the hilt, letting every throb empty into Cheon Areum until the overflow leaked warm and slick around the seal, trickling down between them in slow rivulets. When the last pulse finally ebbed, he didn’t pull out. He probably never even considered it.

Yoon Seoyul licked the new teeth marks on the side of his neck; his tongue swept over the fresh bite, soothing laps that cleaned the faint metallic tang and soothed the throbbing mark. The new imprint stood out stark against pale skin: red, indented, glistening with Yoon Seoyul’s saliva now. After calming down a bit, he studied Cheon Areum’s face—tear-streaked cheeks, swollen lips, half-lidded eyes still hazy with aftershocks—like he was seeing him for the first time. He slid his Palms under Cheon Areum’s chin, holding his face delicately as his thumbs brushed away the fresh trails of tears that had slipped free during the bite.

“Areum…”

He muttered his name—low, wrecked, full of awe—as he leaned in. The first kiss landed on Cheon Areum’s forehead. Then the bridge of his nose. Then each damp eyelids. Then the corner of one eye, the other, catching every tear he could reach.

“Areum…”

He whispered again, lips brushing the apple of one cheek. Another kiss—slow, open-mouthed—against the tear track running down the other side. He kissed the tip of Cheon Areum’s nose. The faint red marks scattered across his cheekbones. The corner of his mouth. And finally, his lips found Cheon Areum’s in a kiss that was achingly gentle: slow slides of tongue, no urgency, just the quiet need to taste, to comfort, to stay connected in every possible way. Cheon Areum’s fingers flexed weakly against Yoon Seoyul’s shoulders, then slid up to cup the back of his neck—holding him there, keeping him close.

“One. Four more.”

Cheon Areum’s voice came out thin and trembling—barely above a whisper—but the words cut through the heavy vanilla haze like a blade. Despite the way his body still shook in fine, exhausted tremors, despite the tears still clinging to his lashes and the faint, involuntary quiver in his thighs around Yoon Seoyul’s waist, he reached down with one shaky hand. Fingers found Yoon Seoyul’s larger one and guided it back to his own abdomen—right over the low, persistent swell where the knot still bulged visibly beneath sweat-slick skin.

He pressed Yoon Seoyul’s palm there gently, then covered it with his own smaller hand. He rubbed slow, faint circles over the taut stretch—feeling the thick, unyielding shape throb in response to every shallow breath. The skin felt fever-hot under their joined touch, stretched tight and sensitive, every movement sending fresh sparks skittering through Cheon Areum’s core.

“You can do it, right?”

“I want more.”

Cheon Areum’s fingers tightened over Yoon Seoyul’s, pressing harder—demanding now.

“Knot me again.”

As if he had finally lost his mind to the intensity of the pheromones, Cheon Areum’s eyes flashed with heat as he spoke out.

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