At Long Last

Help me forget tomorrow

Seamless, intense desire bound them together.

Earlier, he had asked again, "Yoon Se-ri, will you allow me to make love to you?"

Did he even have to ask?

She didn't know if she should scorn, or laugh, or just swoon from his old-fashioned, classic ways of romance.

The South Korean men she had been with were mostly flippant when it came to physical relations.

But yet here was this North Korean man, by far more sincere and good-looking than any of her previous men have been, fighting against circumstances in all ways to be with her.

The way he regarded love with an all or nothing attitude, was a breath of fresh air in her painfully messed-up love life.

If she had a choice, she would be with him, and sleep with him every day and night.

Se-ri had never encountered a man so perfect.

To be honest, it scared and excited her at the same time.

He was so devastatingly good-looking, to the extent of effortlessly awakening burning lust within her.

Yet a part of her constantly wondered, if it was alright to be so lucky in having his devoted love, especially when their love was so taboo to begin with.

Jeong Hyeok claimed her lips gently, before it escalated in to what could only be described as possessively, hungrily.

Was it strange to crave this all the time? Se-ri wondered, as they half-stumbled their way to the bed, still tangled in a lip-lock.

Was it strange to wish to have Ri Jeong Hyeok soldered to her forever, despite knowing the further emotional mess it would certainly cause for her?

She inwardly confessed, she will never have enough of him.

Melting into a heated embrace with their naked lower bodies coming into contact so subtly, Se-ri closed her eyes and sighed in bliss.

They continued kissing, with a swift gradation of intensity that made her cling to him desperately.

There wasn't much time left between them.

Se-ri bit her lower lip as Jeong Hyeok stroked her opening gingerly, as if afraid she might shatter if he used more force.

Then he reached between them on the bed, slowly sliding his finger into her all the way to the knuckle, rotating that single digit in an agonizingly relaxed pace.

For now, Se-ri was the musical instrument that he would bring to life with his hands.

In and out, in and out.

She was so finely-tuned, and Jeong Hyeok realized with a rush of male pride, that if he touched her right, she would reward him with the most melodious of sounds.

Clearly, the adrenaline from his earlier performance with the majestic Steinway Grand was still coursing through his veins.

It was one of, if not, the finest pianos he had ever had the pleasure of placing his hands upon.

But Jeong Hyeok was sure of one thing; his favorite instrument had to be Yoon Se-ri.

Adding another finger to join the one currently pleasuring her, Jeong Hyeok alternated the pace, adding speed and reducing it whenever she was least expecting him to.

"Don't tease me, Ri Jeong Hyeok-ssi..." She whimpered, before he droved his fingers deep within, thumb caressing the sweet nub which would undoubtedly elicit an occasional wail from her.