Boundless

제 27 장

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"Where are we going?" I asked, my voice carrying a note of suspicion as Jae Eun carefully guided me forward, my eyes shielded by his hands.

"Just a few more steps, my love," he said, a playful smile lacing his words.
I felt him steer me up a ramp, his body a warm shield at my back.
"If you push me into a pool or a pond, Jae Eun, I swear—I'll cut your hair off for damaging mine," I warned, making him laugh — that deep, hearty laugh that vibrated against my spine.

"Trust me," he whispered.

We came to an abrupt halt. He counted softly in Korean — hana, dul, set — before lifting his hands from my eyes.
Still, I kept them squeezed shut, savoring the moment.

"Open your eyes, Mrs. Min," he murmured against my ear.

Slowly, my lashes fluttered open, and the world bathed me in light.
Before me stood a house — tall, strong, breathtaking.
Two stories with an attic tucked above, its walls made of warm brick that seemed to glow in the golden sunset.
Sleek and modern, yet it whispered of home.

"Where are we?" I breathed, my voice almost caught in my throat.

He smiled, that boyish, heart-wrenching smile.
"Welcome home."

My hands flew to my mouth, trembling.

"Are you serious?" My voice broke around the words.

"This," he said, stepping closer, pulling me into his arms, "is our home."
A soft sob escaped me, and he chuckled, pressing my head to his chest as his arms wrapped around me.

"You are such a crybaby," he teased.

I glared up at him, making him laugh harder — a sound that danced around us like music.
"I'm kidding," he said gently, pressing a kiss to my forehead. "Come inside. I want to show you the baby's room."

Still in a daze, I let him lead me to the front door. He slipped the key into the lock and held my hand tightly as we stepped over the threshold.

The house welcomed us with open arms — the warm interior already dressed in cozy furnishings. It smelled like fresh paint and dreams coming true.
Jae Eun beamed with pride, boasting about how he arranged everything himself.
Upstairs, he dragged me down a sunlit hallway to a door at the end, pausing dramatically before pushing it open.

I gasped.

The nursery was a dream — a soft blend of buttery yellow and rich Charleston gray.
Everything was perfect, delicate yet vibrant, filled with so much love.

"I didn't know the baby's gender yet, so I tried to keep it neutral," he said, his voice a little shy. "Do you like it?"

"I love it," I whispered, tears slipping down my cheeks again as I pressed a kiss to his lips.
His cheeks flushed, and my heart ached at how beautifully earnest he looked.

"Pierre will absolutely adore this," I said, my voice thick with emotion.
"This house... it's perfect. You're perfect."

He pulled me closer, resting his forehead against mine.
"This house... it belonged to my mother once. My father built it for her before everything fell apart. She never wanted it, though — it was just a trophy of pain to her.
So when she let it go, I claimed it — for us.
For you.
For our son."

His hands cupped my face as he spoke, his voice steady, full of conviction.

"When you left..." he began, his voice cracking slightly, "I realized...
I wanted to be a man worthy of you.
I wanted to heal, to stand tall, to marry you the second I could walk again.
I want to raise our children here, grow old here.
I want my last breath to be taken in this house, with you beside me."

The lump in my throat was unbearable.
"I love you," I whispered fiercely.

"And I love you," he said, sealing it with a kiss — soft, reverent, endless.

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Later, Jae led me down another hallway, his arms encircling me from behind, his lips brushing my shoulder.

"This," he whispered against my skin, "is our room."

Before us stretched a breathtaking bedroom, centered around a massive California king bed wrapped in layers of luxurious linens.
The decor was warm and modern, elegant but cozy — a perfect reflection of us.

As I admired the space, I felt his lips trail up the column of my neck, sending a tremor down my spine.

"Jae," I giggled, squirming, "what are you doing?"

His fingers danced along the straps of my top, teasing.
"This is our sanctuary now," he breathed, his voice low, molten. "We should start making memories in it... don't you think?"

He knew exactly what his voice did to me.
It was a dagger wrapped in silk, cutting straight to my core.

"You're unbelievable," I whispered, cheeks burning.
"You'd think carrying a watermelon-sized bump would turn you off," I added, laughing self-deprecatingly.

But he stiffened, pulling away just enough to look me dead in the eye.

"You are beautiful ," he said, voice hard and aching all at once.
"You are carrying our child.
And you... Athena, you are more beautiful now than you have ever been.
Every day, I want you more."

He dropped to his knees before me like a man worshiping a goddess.

He placed his hands reverently on my stomach, running them up and down as if memorizing every curve.
He lifted my shirt and pressed a kiss just above my navel — so tender, so full of devotion that my heart clenched painfully.

"Jae..." I whispered, but he silenced me with a look.

"I want you," he breathed, standing again to tower over me, his hands cupping my face.
Before I could say another word, he kissed me — deep and consuming.

In one fluid motion, he scooped me into his arms and carried me to the bed, laying me down as if I were something precious, something fragile.
His weight above me was the safest thing I'd ever known.

My fingers clumsily tore at the buttons of his shirt, sending them scattering across the room.
He tugged my top over my head, his mouth never leaving my skin, branding me with kisses, with the worship of a man who loved with every fiber of his being.

He undressed me with a reverence that made me tremble, his hands sure, his lips desperate.
And when he finally entered me, I gasped — my entire body arching into his.
The connection between us was scorching, electric, eternal.

He moved inside me with a rhythm that bordered on holy, whispering my name, tracing patterns over my skin.
I clutched him tightly, wrapping my legs around him, binding him to me.
Our breaths tangled.
Our souls tangled.

"Tell me what you want," he rasped, his fingers trailing dangerously low.

"Make love to me," I pleaded, barely able to speak through the storm building inside me.

He smiled — that devastating, heart-aching smile.

"As you wish, my queen."

And then he made love to me — slow, deep, worshipful.
As if I were the air he breathed.
As if I were the only thing that ever mattered.

The world faded away.
There was no rain, no storm, no past, no future — only this.
Only us.
Only love.

We stayed tangled in each other's arms long into the night, our hearts beating a quiet, sacred rhythm against the walls of the house that would hold all our memories.

The beginning of forever.

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