UR Chapter 110

Chapter 110

“Aren’t you cold? I should have dressed you.”

Despite his composed voice, his lips against I-bom’s skin were hot enough to melt. Each pecking kiss lingered as if reluctant to part, lips rubbing lightly over smooth, sweet skin. The roughened tip of his tongue swept gently here and there, and his motions, like marking his territory with saliva, made I-bom’s body flinch as he rubbed his cheek against Beom-ho’s nape.

“No… not cold at all. Because you’re… mm… holding me.”

He had never slept deeply at home, but in Beom-ho’s arms, he could sleep soundly. It made him realize he might have given his heart to him more than he thought. Like a child seeking comfort, I-bom reached out and snuggled deeper into his embrace.

“But you cried in your sleep.”

Beom-ho reached up and gently wiped away the damp marks on his cheek. Then, as if soothing him, he pressed a light kiss there. He was no longer the stranger whose clouded eyes had once roamed hungrily over I-bom’s wrist—he was back to the Eun Beom-ho I-bom knew.

“Did you have a scary dream?”

Instead of answering, I-bom burrowed deeper against him, pressing his face into the broad chest and slipping his arms inside to link hands. With a soft, muffled sound, he rubbed his bare skin lightly against him. The warmth of his body made every muscle loosen in languid relief.

“…Maybe. I’m calm now.”

“I see.”

Beom-ho nodded slowly.

“Madam Baek came by earlier. As we suspected, the plant you picked was a type of catnip vine. She found it lying around in your room and took it away. She cleaned it up and threw it out…”

“…I see.”

He hesitated, rubbing I-bom’s forehead with his fingertips. The hot, dry touch tickled I-bom’s skin in a careful, almost hesitant way.

“Was there a reason you brought it back?”

“…….”

I-bom blinked. If asked whether he had a special reason, he didn’t. He’d just liked the scent—it was unusual and pleasant.

“I’m sorry for throwing it out without telling you. When we get to Seoul, should I give you a whole bundle?”

His breath expanded and then relaxed. As if smoothing his freshly dried hair, he reached for the corner of I-bom’s eye. Any trace of tears had already dried, but his touch carefully brushed away the faint moisture clinging to his lashes. The delicate motion made I-bom’s shoulders twitch from the ticklishness.

“I didn’t like seeing you in distress… it’s fine.”

He smiled faintly, his eyes curving. Outside, he could endure anything alone, but somehow when he was with Beom-ho, he always wanted to lean on him and be spoiled. He closed his eyes with a smile, and in the darkness behind his lids, warm breath tickled his ear in place of words. I-bom slowly opened his eyes again.

“It wasn’t pain, just… overexcitement. You don’t have to worry so much. What I’m concerned about is…”

“…….”

His face was so close. Not blurred or indistinct—sharp, clear, and looking straight at I-bom. The unwavering gaze was so firm it felt like it would never stray. The seriousness in those eyes made I-bom’s breath hitch without realizing it.

“Were you afraid of me earlier?”

Beom-ho’s fingers slowly traced down to tap against I-bom’s lips. The dry touch swept over them before pausing in the middle, knocking lightly as if asking to be let in. He didn’t force his mouth open or speak in a demanding tone, but even that small gesture stirred I-bom’s heart.

“…Ah, no.”

A sharp tension, laced with sexual anticipation, spilled softly from his voice. At I-bom’s reaction, Beom-ho’s fingertips pressed more firmly than before. His piercing gaze seemed intent on prying open every flicker of that restless heart, exploring it with heat.

“I’ll be more careful, so don’t be afraid.”

Before I-bom could even answer, he tilted his head and kissed him. The ticklish sensation made the strength drain from I-bom’s fingers, which had been gripping him. Beom-ho’s broad chest rose and fell as he lightly shifted over I-bom.

He guided I-bom’s hands to rest behind his neck, intertwining their fingers so he wouldn’t collapse or fall.

“Ah… haa…”

The heat slid between their lips, tickling as it slipped in. His thick tongue brushed gently, almost teasingly, through the narrow space before steadily pressing in. I-bom closed his eyes, angling to meet him and hastily offering up his lips. Even though it was only a kiss, it felt as if every cell in his body was responding with heat. Wrapping his arms around Beom-ho’s neck, he clung to him as though begging him to quench the burning thirst boiling deep in his throat.

“Mmm… mmph…”

Parting his lips to catch his breath, I-bom panted. Watching him, Beom-ho’s straight brows softened. Narrowing his eyes, he pushed his wet tongue in deep, as if he’d been waiting for this.

“Mmmph—”

It had been I-bom who first said he wanted to sleep in Beom-ho’s room, and now he understood the unspoken desire in Beom-ho’s plea not to be afraid. Every time he shifted, something hot and hard rubbed against the inside of his thigh.

The sounds escaping between his teeth were heated. Beom-ho, unwilling to let him slip beyond his control, traced him thoroughly with possessive intent—as if marking his territory, determined to let no one else in.

His tongue, vividly alive, swept over the soft roof of I-bom’s mouth, tapped at his teeth, then glided over them again, savoring him without restraint.

“Ugh, mmph…”

The slick sounds and movements of his tongue echoed sharply in I-bom’s ears, stoking his senses higher and higher. His head spun, dizzy. Gasping, he looked up toward the ceiling. A thin beam of moonlight glittered beneath the high ceiling.

“Focus. Don’t look anywhere else.”

With a wet smack, he pulled back just enough to entwine his tongue with I-bom’s again, stroking gently over his smaller tongue. The insistent motion filled him to the brim, making his waist tighten and release in impatient rhythm.

“Look at me.”

At his words, I-bom’s lashes fluttered closed under the haze of pleasure, then slowly lifted again. Panting, he forced himself to speak.

“Y-yes…”

Though he answered obediently, he wasn’t in the right mind to understand what the words even meant. He trembled as if sinking deep into a mire of pleasure, the strange sensation running from the nape of his neck to the tips of his toes, sweeping over him like an electric current.

That prickling tremor pooled between his lower belly and his toes. His breath hitched, then escaped in relief—only for his thighs and hips to twist again.

“…Ah!”

They had kissed many times before, but never had release surged toward him so madly. Just from kissing—why was his whole body so hot, his stomach tingling?

Tensing his stomach, he rocked his body. Something he rarely did—he suddenly wanted to reach down and stroke himself, slowly, up and down. But pinned beneath Beom-ho, he couldn’t move. Curling his fingers where they rested on his neck, he called to him, his mind consumed entirely by the need to climax.

“B-Beom-ho…”

“Mm, I’m right here.”

“I… I want to touch. I’m—gonna—”

His thoughts were melted to mush, his words little more than breathy whimpers in Beom-ho’s ear. He didn’t know what face he was making, or how he sounded, only that his hips and thighs kept squirming, rubbing against the sheets beneath them.

“Are you close, I-bom?”

“Mm, y-yes… yes…”

Frowning faintly, I-bom loosened his fingers from around Beom-ho’s neck. His hand wandered down, feeling for the sheets, then slipped between the tight press of Beom-ho’s thigh and his own to reach his arousal.

“Haa…”

His breath came fast, his body limp as though he’d been drinking. Blinking, I-bom searched for himself in Beom-ho’s grasp.

“I’ll let you finish first.”

Awkwardly, he reached for himself, but before he could, the warmth at his nape vanished. Beom-ho leaned close, catching his lower lip between his teeth. I-bom let out a faint moan as his teeth rubbed the inside of his lip. Pressing his thigh to I-bom’s once again, Beom-ho took his hand and guided it closer to the inside of his own thigh.

“Mm…”

Something hot and damp met his touch. A solid, unyielding shape of flesh.