Colors Of Warmth | Seulrene

TWENTY FOUR

HAUNTED BY MEMORIES 

The past has a way of finding you, no matter how far you’ve run or how deeply you've buried it. It doesn't simply fade; it waits in the shadows, patient and quiet, until the moment it returns to test you again. And when it does, it doesn’t seek to break you—it seeks to remind you of the strength you’ve built in its wake.

Author's Note: This chapter will focus entirely on Irene's past, highlighting key moments that will be significant in upcoming chapters.

Irene’s breath caught in her throat as Seulgi’s tongue traced slow, deliberate patterns between her thighs. Each flick sent waves of electricity through her, sparking a fire that threatened to consume her entirely. Her body jerked involuntarily, and she let out a raw, primal moan, her voice heavy with need. Her hands fisted the sheets beneath her, trying to anchor herself to reality, but the pleasure was overwhelming, making her feel as if she were floating, lost in a storm of sensation.

Seulgi’s tongue moved with expert precision, exploring every sensitive inch of her. He was unhurried, savoring the taste of her as though she were something he would never tire of. The wet heat of his mouth against her most intimate place drove her mad, and Irene’s head fell back against the pillows, her chest rising and falling rapidly as the tension built inside her.

“S–Seulgi…” she gasped, her voice shaky as she tried to form words. But it was useless. Her mind was drowning in the ecstasy he gave her. Each stroke of his tongue sent her closer to the edge, a place where all she could feel was him.

Her hand shot to his head, fingers weaving into his dark hair, pulling him closer as if she feared he might stop. She could feel her body trembling, her skin slick with sweat, the fire in her belly coiling tighter and tighter. Every flick of his tongue made her toes curl, her thighs shaking as she neared the brink of release.

“Oh, God… Seulgi…” Her voice was breathless, almost desperate, the pleasure too much to contain. She arched against him, every nerve in her body alight, and just as she felt she might explode.

Seulgi murmured against her pink skin, his deep voice sending a shiver through her. “You taste wonderful my love,” Seulgi growled, his voice dark with desire. “I could stay here forever.”

His words pushed her over the edge. With a choked cry, Irene shattered, her body convulsing as the orgasm crashed through her like a tidal wave. She gripped his hair even tighter, her hips bucking against him as her vision blurred from the intensity of her climax.

But Seulgi wasn’t done. Even as her body trembled with the aftershocks of her release, he continued, his tongue still teasing her sensitive flesh. Irene whimpered, her body oversensitive, but the pleasure only grew, mixing with the sweet pain of overstimulation.

“Love… please…” she breathed, though she wasn’t even sure if she was begging him to stop or to continue. All she knew was that she was utterly at his mercy.

Finally, Seulgi pulled back, his lips glistening with her release, his eyes dark and hungry as he gazed up at her. Without a word, he moved over her body, kissing a trail of fire up her skin until his lips captured hers. The taste of herself on his lips was intoxicating, and she kissed him back, the hunger between them unquenchable.

Seulgi positioned himself at Irene's entrance, his movements deliberate and torturously slow, building the tension between them. Irene’s nails dug into his back, the sting driving him wild with desire. Every inch of her body responded to him, and he loved the way she clung to him, the raw need in her touch.

“You feel so good, my love,” Seulgi whispered, his voice low and husky as he leaned in to kiss her neck, his lips grazing the sensitive skin there before he nipped at it. Irene groaned loudly, the combination of pleasure and frustration pushing her closer to the edge. She could barely take the way he teased her, his deliberate slow pace driving her to madness.