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“Hey,” he said softly, bringing my attention back to him. “You’re perfect. Every part of you. Even the parts you don’t like. Let me show you how perfect you are to me.”

He lowered his hips until he pressed against me, and I gasped.

“I want you,” he said roughly. “I have always wanted you.”

And as he nudged against my entrance, I believed him. He paused, a maddening suspension that had me caught somewhere between heaven and hell.

“Joon–”

“Tell me you want me,” he said roughly. It seemed so impossible to me that he could have any doubt. “Please,” he begged.

“I want you. Joon–I want you.”

His eyes slid closed and his forehead dropped down to mine, but when he reopened them, his irises were nearly black. “You’re mine, jagiya. You have always been mine.”

And then, he was sliding into me. Slick, and warm and overwhelming, and I cried out, tipping my head back against the pillows.

He bit out a sound that was more growl than word as he sank all the way inside me. He paused then, panting against my neck. I felt him shuddering beneath my palms as I stroked my hands down his back.

“I missed you,” he said raggedly. “I missed you, so much.”

He pulled out almost all the way, and then thrust back in with one torturously slow glide that ran along my every nerve ending. My eyes slid closed, and when I reopened them, it was to see him watching me with unwavering intensity.

He began to move in earnest, deep, sure rolls of his hips that tore moans from me, and I raised my hips in time with his, so in tune even as I clung to him as desperation began to coil low inside me.

I gasped his name, over and over, as if I’d spent so long being unable to say it, that now I couldn’t stop. He kissed me, again and again, swallowing my cries, and as he moaned into my mouth, I shattered. My body seized in his arms, tightening and going loose all at the same time, and I tore my mouth from his to arch my back, shuddering through my orgasm. He grasped my hips and chased his own release, groaning my name until his thrusts grew erratic, harder and shallower until he stilled inside me with a ragged groan on his lips.

I reached up to take his face between my palms. He stared down at me, fragile and raw, trembling.

“Kaiya,” he panted. “Jagiya.”

I smiled up at him, letting him see every unguarded piece of me before I brought his lips down to mine.

Afterwards, we lay there, curled around each other, talking for so long that dawn had begun to creep in through the windows, stretching across the plush carpet to reach for us in the bed.

“I have to go,” he grumbled, tucking a strand of hair back from my face.

“I know.”

“I don’t want to.”

“I know.”

“I want to stay here.”

“I know.”

My toes curled and I didn’t bother to hide how his grumbles made me smile.

“Whoa!” I squeaked, as his arm shot out to grasp my wrist, yanking me across the sheets and pinning me beneath him as he rolled over to cage me in his arms.

“Are you laughing at me, jagiya?” he rumbled, voice dangerous and low.

“Yes,” I said, suddenly breathless.

He made a disapproving noise, and then brought his watch up.

“I have enough time to put a different kind of smile on your face.”