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... ing Beomjin’s sharp jawline tense, she slowly pulled down his zipper.
“Yoon Junyoung.”
His deep voice was rough, nearly hoarse. His body, taut and sculpted without an ounce of excess, was beautiful. When her fingers swept over the fabric of his underwear, Beomjin let out a suppressed groan.
He tried to grab her wrist, but his movement hesitated for a moment. He had noticed the swelling on her wrist. Junyoung smiled, tilting her lips upward, and whispered.
“I want ...
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