Chapter 50. The Sound Youth Makes When It Drowns (6)

He turned her around, muscles taut with anticipation, and placed her hands on the wall. Moonlight filtering through the bathroom window cast a net-like shadow over her hand.

Sliding his palms up from her waist toward her ribs, he grabbed her breasts and began to knead them. Every time his fingers brushed her hard nipples, her brows furrowed as she flinched with soft whimpers.

He licked the nape of her neck, trailing wet heat up her spine. Then his teeth grazed her skin, making her knees buckle. His hands slipped downward, now rubbing her slick, swollen clit.

“Ah!”

“Spread a bit more. You said you wanted it, didn’t you? Hm?”

“Hah… Even more than this…?”

“Push your ass out too.”

He pressed down on her lower belly, nudging her hips back. Gripping her soft buttocks like he was squeezing dough, he spread them and aligned his tip to the slightly parted entrance.

With a small thrust, his glans was slowly swallowed, but her inner walls clamped down tight, popping his shaft right back out. He exhaled a shaky breath, then bit into her shoulder softly and whispered:

“You gotta relax. Yeah? Breathe, Eunkyo.”

And when he licked her ear, her entrance gave way—his cock slid in with a deep glide.

“Mmgh!”

Her hips twitched as she leaned on the wall. Her shoulder blades pulled together, and the back of her neck turned flushed red.

Jaeheon placed a hand over her flat stomach and applied steady pressure. She let out a short, breathy moan and trembled. He coaxed her gently, murmuring, Just a bit more, as he finally buried himself inside her all the way to the thick base.

His gaze deepened as he looked down at where they were joined, fully embedded. Her slender waist arched above her round butt, shoulder blades jutting out under her damp skin like sculpted bone. Her entire body looked so soft—like pudding—that if he pressed too hard, she might just collapse.

He stared for a moment, breath heavy, watching her twitch beneath him. Then he cupped her cheek. When she turned to look at him with dazed eyes, the pounding in his chest echoed in his skull.

“…Haa. Just putting it in makes me feel like I’m gonna cum.”

“Sl-slowly…”

“If you feel like cumming, go ahead. Here… want me to touch you?”

His voice was low and syrupy as he began to move, slow at first, circling her clit with his fingers. The sensation of her slippery, tender folds soaked in arousal was enough to drive him mad.

Her body was soft, slick, full in all the right places—he wanted to suck every inch of it.

He kept a slow rhythm until her inner walls loosened and adjusted, then began to speed up. Each thrust pushed her forward, pressing her repeatedly into the cold tile wall. She stretched her arms out, bracing herself against it.

He slid his hand down to press into the dip of her back, brushing her wet hair aside.

With a hard exhale, he gripped her hips tight and started pounding into her with purpose.

“Ah—ah!”

Every time he pulled out, the flushed inner flesh clung to him; and when he pushed back in, her ass jerked tight. Before long, his thrusts lost all rhythm—now it was desperate, messy.

The sound of flesh slapping echoed off the walls, mixed with the creak of movement, their uneven moans layering on top of each other. Her once pale skin turned red with blooming handprints.

This was madness.

It felt like falling off a cliff again and again, only to be yanked back up by the hair—an endless cycle of crashing and rising. Like a doll strapped to a wild ride, she had no control—just the rise, the drop, and the pleasure that shook her senseless.

She was a slave to pleasure now, tossed and shaken without mercy.