All I want for Christmas is Yoon

“How was your flight?” She traces her finger over my knuckles, igniting tiny sparks in her wake.

“Long.”

“I’m sure,” she says sympathetically. “How are you feeling?”

“Better now that I’m with you.” I bring our joined hands up to my lips. “I want to see you tonight.”

“We don’t want to get caught,” she cautions.

“I’m not going to waste a moment of the time I have with you, Hart.” Her eyes dilate, and I can practically taste her desire. I want to bend down and devour her lips, but I know once I start, I won’t want to stop. Our first kiss won’t be in a crowded dining area in front of strangers. I’ve had time to plan this out, and I won’t ruin it with my impatience. “Come on, let’s get food.” I stand and help her up, guiding her to the serving area. For the past few months, she’s worked herself into the ground trying to be everything to everyone. I plan to give her all the attention and pampering she deserves.

“DO NOT SAY A WORD ABOUT the contest today,” Hart warns as she steps into my hotel room.

“What? I can’t compliment you on your beautiful singing voice?” I tease.

She cringes. The contest to imitate popular Korean songs was interesting, to say the least.

Her elbow taps my stomach lightly, and I laugh. “You were so cute concentrating as you tried your best to imitate the words.”

“Only to you, I’m sure,” she huffs. The humor in her brown eyes takes the sting from her words.

“It was nearly impossible to sit on the panel and pretend I didn’t know you as well as I do. I couldn’t keep my eyes off you.” I rest my hand on her hip.

“You couldn’t?” Tipping her head up, she smiles.

“No.” My eyes keep returning to her as Sang watched me with a disapproving expression on his face.

“Your manager didn’t seem so happy. His lips were puckered like he swallowed a lemon in between filming.”

“He isn’t thrilled with me.”

“Did you dismiss him?”

I shake my head. “No. I told him things were going to change. He didn’t like it.”

She winces. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

/> “I can’t help but feel like it might be. Sang doesn’t approve of you seeing me, does he?”

“He wouldn’t for anyone. He wants me to remain single and appear available to the public.” I scowl. Unless it’s a fake relationship with the public.

“If this is going to ruin things for you—”

“Don’t even think it, Hartley.” I use her full name to show her how serious I am. She shivers, and I pull her closer. “When I said you were mine, it wasn’t a statement I made lightly. There’s been something missing in my life for a long time. You fill that empty space.” Bending down, I brush our lips together. I use the tip of my tongue to trace her lips, and she parts them. I delve inside and moan. She tastes like the marshmallows she shoved into her mouth for her final contest of the day. Heat pools in my stomach, and my cock swells, straining against my jeans. I explore every inch of her mouth, and she whimpers, pressing her full breasts into my chest. I swear I can feel her heat searing me through the denim that separates us.

Her tongue tangles with mine, and I’m lost. Spearing my fingers through her coarse curls, I tilt my head this way and that to gain more access to her sweetness. Her leg creeps up around my hip, opening her to me, and notch myself in the space created. I rock against her, and we both groan at the friction. I kiss my way to her neck, sucking on the throbbing pulse point beating at a rapid speed in time with my heart. I press her back against the wall, lifting her up. Her arms wind around my neck, and her legs snake around my waist. Gripping her hips, I tilt her body. She arches her back, whimpering, and tugs on the strands of my hair. I growl, thrusting up against her. When she cries out, I press my lips to her, swallowing her passion down.

Panting, she grips my shoulders hard, digging her fingers into my flesh. “Yoon. Don’t stop. I’m so close.”

I spin us around.

“No,” she whimpers.

“When I make you come for the first time, I want to taste it.” The women I’ve been with weren’t always into my way of talking or taking control.

“Fuck, yes.” Hart doesn’t seem to have that problem.