The balcony was drowned in the city's after-dark heat, every window a shard of colored glass in the river of Seoul below. But Joon-ho didn't see the view. His eyes were locked on Ji-hye, half-naked, her skin dewy and flushed from everything that came before, chest still heaving, hair a wild halo catching the city lights. The air stank of sex and sweat—proof of how little patience either of them had left.
She braced herself against the glass, goosebumps racing over her bare arms where the night air licked at her skin. Joon-ho's hands never stopped moving—one greedy palm sliding up from her waist, tracing the line of her ribs, the other squeezing her ass through her shorts like he wanted to leave bruises. His mouth pressed against hers, slow and wet, a kiss that tasted like every filthy thing they'd done. Ji-hye whimpered, already needy, lips parting for his tongue.
