c l i m a x

c l i m a x // II

Dara felt a familiar pair of arms encircled around her waist. She smiled.

A kind of fire exploded through Dara‘s body, heating her skin and raising the fine hairs on the back of her neck. Jiyong leaned in closer, pressing his lean body against his wife. Mornings with Jiyong had always been like this for the past 4 years.

And Dara is in no position to complain. She has been blessed ever since.

“Good morning, baby.” His deep voice rang deep in her ears down to her nether region. His hot breath tickling every sense in her body.

“And good morning to you too, baby.” Dara turned, facing him. His dark gaze greeted her. Looking at her as if trying to convey a secret message. And Dara knew what it was.

They needed some private time alone with each other.

“You know, it’s still early.” Jiyong said. His hands traveled up from her waist down to her thighs, caressing it. “We could still have some uh…morning exercise.” Dara blushed deep red. Jiyong smiled triumphantly upon seeing it. Glad that he could still make her blush after all these years.

She did not say a word nor did she try to protest and Jiyong knew that it was his signal that she wanted it as well. He pulled her closer to him and Dara gasped, feeling his hard crotch poking on her belly. His hands moved up onto her ass then cup it. Jiyong squeezed it softly, making Dara squeal.

“You’re really cute.” He said, bringing his nose close to hers. Brushing it slowly, “I love it.”

Her mouth went dry. Her lower region aching. Oh god, Jiyong is torturing her with his painfully sweet slowness. Just when she was about to open her mouth and protest, Jiyong cupped her neck and tugged her face closer to him.

Dara could taste his breath with their faces only an inch apart. He stared at her lips and felt himself hardened more. Full, pink and luscious. Delicious and sexy.

All his. Only his.

“Mommy!” a familiar voice rang loudly inside the kitchen. Dammit! Just when Jiyong was about to kiss her. They’re almost there. Almost. What a good timing.

Dara hurriedly freed herself from Jiyong’s arms and ran towards the little boy. His face scrunched up yet still so beautiful. Just like his father. Every part of his face resembled of Jiyong except his eyes. His big brown orbs, innocent and soft, just like of his mother.

“What’s wrong, Shin Yong?” his name rolled out of Dara’s tongue like honey. Shin Yong— Shin meaning faith and trust, Yong meaning courage and eternal union. “Dream monsters again?”