The atmosphere in the CEO's office had shifted from a taut dance of anticipation to a visceral, high-intensity clash of bodies. The air was thick with the scent of arousal and the rhythmic, heavy sound of skin meeting skin. The slow burn of the earlier teasing had completely evaporated, replaced by a raw, primal hunger that demanded absolute surrender.
Joon-ho didn't slow his pace; instead, he increased the pressure, his hips driving forward with a punishing, relentless power. Every thrust was a statement of dominance, a claim over Harin's very being. He leaned forward, his chest pressing against her arched back, his weight pinning her against the leather of the sofa. As he drove into her, he began to trail kisses across the expanse of her shoulder blades, his lips pressing firmly into her skin.
