His knees rested on either side of your hips, sitting comfortably over you as the thin satin of your button-up nightgown clung to your heated skin. Already breathless beneath him, you turned your face away, the back of your hand covering your mouth in a weak attempt to hold back the sounds threatening to spill out.
Haechan only smiled at that.
His fingers moved slowly from your collarbone downward, featherlight touches that made your skin erupt in goosebumps. The pads of his fingers brushed over your nipple through the thin fabric, and your breath caught sharply in your throat.
His eyes stayed fixed on your face as he began undoing the buttons one by one—slow, deliberate, almost cruel with patience, like he knew exactly how much it was driving you insane. Each newly exposed inch of bare skin seemed to steal the air from his lungs too. By the time the fabric had fallen open enough to reveal the soft skin from the middle of your chest down to your navel, his breathing had gone uneven.
Then his hands slipped beneath the loosened satin.
Both of you exhaled at the same time when he finally cupped your breasts fully in his palms, warm and heavy against his touch. His thumbs stroked along the underside before slowly circling over your nipples, teasing until your back arched beneath him.
Haechan bent down, pressing a lingering kiss to the center of your chest.
His lips traveled upward, from the middle of your throat to the sensitive side of your neck, until they brushed along your jaw, lips parting against your skin just enough for the faint brush of his tongue to follow after each kiss — unhurried, like he wanted to memorize the taste of you. All while his hands continued kneading you gently, like he couldn’t get enough of having you like this.
Then, against your skin, he whispered softly—
“Don’t hold back from me.”
His lips brushed your jaw again.
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