Chapter 2 UNREVAILING

The silence between us wasn't empty-it was thick, vibrating with everything we weren't saying out loud. I could still feel the way his fingers had gripped my waist just moments ago, how his breath had ghosted over my ear like a whisper meant for the inside of my skin.

I didn't want him to leave.

"Stay," I said, the word catching in my throat like something raw and unfinished.

He didn't hesitate. He just closed the door behind him with a soft click and turned back to me. The way he looked at me-it wasn't hungry. It wasn't desperate. It was reverent. Like he was standing before something he didn't quite believe he was allowed to touch.

"Eun-mi," he said, my name unraveling from his lips like prayer, like confession. "You don't have to pretend here."

I didn't even realize I'd been holding tension in my body until he said that. Something in me dropped-like my spine had given out, like I could finally breathe. I didn't have to be the CEO. I didn't have to be the woman with the perfect posture and the perfect reputation. I could just be... me. And maybe that was enough for him.

He walked toward me slowly, giving me every chance to change my mind. But I didn't. I couldn't. I wanted to know what it felt like to be touched without calculation, to be wanted without caution.

When he finally reached me, he didn't grab. He didn't rush. His hands settled at my hips, grounding me. And then he leaned in-not to kiss me, but to rest his forehead against mine.

"Let me take care of you," he said.

I nodded. My lips were trembling.

His fingers found the edge of my blouse, undoing each button with an intimacy that made my skin burn. Not just with need-but with the sheer weight of being seen. Every inch of fabric that slipped away was like a piece of armor I no longer had to carry.

When I was bare before him, he stepped back, just enough to take me in. His eyes weren't greedy. They were reverent. And then he whispered, "You're beautiful, Eun-mi."

I didn't want to cry, but something about the way he said my name made my throat tighten. He didn't see me as some untouchable figure on a pedestal. He saw me-the woman behind the empire, behind the hard voice and the unshakable heels. He saw the fragility I'd buried so deep even I'd forgotten where I'd left it.

He dropped to his knees in front of me, his hands guiding me backward until the backs of my knees met the couch. He looked up at me from there, his hands still at my waist. Waiting. Asking without asking.

"Yes," I breathed.

That was all it took.

He kissed the inside of my thigh first-slowly, with devotion. And I felt my knees wobble. I wasn't used to being adored. I wasn't used to anyone taking their time with me, worshipping me without expectation. But he did. Every kiss, every stroke of his tongue, every gasp he pulled from me-it was all an offering. Not to seduce me, but to let me feel again.

By the time he rose, his eyes were heavy with everything we hadn't said. He undressed slowly, letting me watch, and when he finally laid me down and settled between my thighs, I wasn't afraid anymore. I wasn't bracing for disappointment. I was open-terrified, trembling, but open.

And when he entered me, it wasn't just sex.

It was surrender.

He moved inside me with such slow, deliberate rhythm it felt like a conversation-one spoken through gasps, the arch of my back, the way my fingers clawed at his shoulders. There was no rush, no aggression. Just the slow, devastating unfolding of everything I had sealed away.

His lips found mine again, softer now, like he knew my breath was getting harder to catch. And I kissed him back with something I hadn't offered in years-vulnerability. Not lust. Not control. Just the ache of being touched like I mattered.

I whispered his name into the warm curve of his neck, and I felt him shudder. My nails traced the muscles of his back, felt every flex of him as he moved deeper, as if he was trying to reach not just my body but every hidden place inside me. My thoughts were slipping, falling out of order. All I could do was feel.

He pulled back slightly, just enough to look down at me.

"You're safe here," he murmured, brushing my hair off my face.

I broke then. Not in sadness, not in weakness-but in release. My body trembled under his, the wave crashing over me so full it made my eyes blur. I didn't hold back my sounds. I didn't muffle myself the way I used to. I let him hear me-raw, undone.

And he didn't stop. He held me through it, guiding me through the aftershocks like he already knew how I broke apart and how to hold the pieces.

"Again," I whispered against his skin. "Please."

He smiled into my neck, and then, without a word, flipped me beneath him-his weight pressing me down just enough that I felt caged, owned, completely and utterly his.

"Good girl," he growled against my ear.

The words tore through me like fire. I gasped, arching into him, my body already reacting before my mind could catch up.

"I want to hear you beg," he said, and this time, his voice was deeper-commanding, unapologetically dominant.

"I-" My voice faltered.

But then his hand slipped between us again, his fingers finding that aching place that still throbbed from my last release, and I whimpered.

"Use your words, Eun-mi."

It shouldn't have turned me on the way it did. But I was soaked in it-his voice, his touch, the way he made me feel completely out of control yet completely safe at once.

"Please," I gasped. "Please-more."

He rewarded me with another deep thrust, and my head dropped back into the pillow as my entire body responded like it had been waiting years for this kind of worship.

"You like giving up control," he murmured, his hand at my throat-not choking, just holding, just enough to make my breath catch and my heart race.

"I don't..." I tried to protest, but it was a lie and we both knew it.

He leaned down and bit my shoulder-not hard, just enough to mark.

"You do," he said. "You just didn't know how much you needed someone to take it from you."

I moaned at the truth of it. My body was already climbing again, high and fast, like my nerves had forgotten how to rest.

When I came again, it was with a cry so loud I was sure the neighbors would complain, but I didn't care. I was lost in it. In him. In the way his body claimed mine like it belonged to him.

And maybe... it did.

Because every moment with him and everything we shared together he's my soft spot and my calming pils. having someone who knows how to calm me down and making me feel at ease and my mind at peace I can focus on anything

I guess that's what every woman need.feeling special and loved