This Is What You Came For

The sound of Hong Cha-young’s heels against the pavement echoed like a symphonic harmony that was beating in time with her pounding heart and synching with the shallow, barely audible breaths escaping between her slightly parted lips. The touch of Vincenzo’s hand in her palm — his fingers intertwined with hers — blazed like an uncontrollable wildfire scattering goosebumps and the likes across her skin without mercy. Not that she minded. In fact, she was thriving. In comparison to pummeling Babel into the ground or winning grueling case after grueling case to finish cleaning up the final pieces of their epic take-down, it was nothing to the exorbitant amounts of heat pooling in her abdomen or the inaudible gasp that tightened her chest when Vincenzo’s chocolate irises had fallen upon hers for the first time in over a year. It was as if the entire world stopped spinning. Time ceased to exist.

Perhaps it was because the only person she cared about had been standing opposite her, fitted into a perfectly tailored, obscenely expensive navy suit that accented the best his body had to offer. She’d resigned herself into thinking he’d never come back. One broken promise spoken on two different occasions wasn’t all that hard to swallow even if Vincenzo’s ardently declared words had made her heart flutter like a leaf in the wind. Even without him present, she knew he was the only person who’d cross oceans and move mountains for her. She’d seen, firsthand, the lengths he’d go if his heart was set on it. Yet, there he was, in person, staring back with a fervent, almost expectant expression as if asking, ‘Don’t you realize why I returned? Did you really not believe me?’

Of course Cha-young hadn’t. She couldn’t. It was dangerous for Vincenzo to step foot on Korean soil, significantly less now that Jang Han-seok  had been taken care of, but it was still reckless. The entire country was on high alert looking for him. However, it also didn’t mean that she hadn’t imagined what life could be like if he found a way to make good on his promise. She could barely fathom his presence even when she was staring directly at him, when she’d heard his voice bumbling on about war and art followed by — what she assumed was — a greeting in Italian that weakened even her strong knees; not even when his breath flirted with her skin as he leaned in, offering her an invitation to his island. She joked at first, teasing in the facetious way she always had no matter the occasion to downplay the emotional rollercoaster her heart decided to ride. But he’d been serious. So serious. She didn’t even realize until the moment their lips met — for real this time — and that was the moment everything changed.

Cha-young followed his lead up the stairs a half-step behind. It was effortless, really. Vincenzo’s confident stride was gravitating. It was barely enough to be near him again, but it would do for now. The way he’d said, “Come with me,” had almost reduced her to a puddle on the ground. There was promise for more, not spoken clearly in words but obvious to those looking between the lines, or, more accurately, at their body language and the heightening tension thickening the very air they were breathing. She didn’t even know where he was taking her, and, honestly, she didn’t really care. The firm grip on her hand and the subtle quickening of his pace was enough to say that things were escalating to some extent. It was hard to say for sure exactly to what degree, but Cha-young had a pretty good idea. At least she hoped, clinging to the endless possibilities parading through her mind. After all, Vincenzo had returned to her, kissed her full on the lips in public, and had even allowed her to kiss him back.

Yeah, she had a fairly good idea of where she wanted this to go.

They passed a few faceless, meandering strangers as they made their way back into the exhibition. Thankfully, no one seemed to pay them any mind other than the occasional greeting — a polite bow here; another there. For now, it seemed, their secretive motives were still masked to the general public. There was a mild panic as they reentered the building, but the security guards acted as if the two of them were invisible. A shaky breath Cha-young didn’t even realize she was holding released at once, warranting a very curious — and equally lethal — glance over the shoulder from Vincenzo. Her heart stuttered at his lippy smile. He wasn’t even trying to hide it. Suddenly feeling hot, Cha-young turned her attention outward, choosing to look at everything else but Vincenzo. He was not going to rule her thoughts like this. For all she knew, he was taking her to see a lousy piece of artwork.

The eggshell walls and fluorescent lights felt harsh coming from the darkened sky and the soft glow of the lamps illuminating the outdoor pathway. Cha-young hadn’t gotten this far into the exhibition yet, but now that she was paying more attention to her surroundings, the displays were just as stunning as they were upon arrival. Still, there was something a little lackluster about the entire thing; something she couldn't quite put her finger on. That was, until her gaze naturally gravitated back to Vincenzo. The way the artificial luminescence made the olive skin on the back of his neck glow…the scar she knew nothing about barely peeking out from behind his collar…

Cha-young bit her lip.

It was kissable, and she wanted it.

The previous fantasies she’d attempted to silence earlier were back with a vengeance. Her imagination progressively grew more vivid, falling deeper and deeper down a dark and winding hole with every step. Her thoughts teased her until she felt restless and anxious. Her cheeks felt ablaze, burning with a thousand different emotions all at once. She was certain they were saturated with a deep maroon hue, and it wasn’t because of her impatient stride, one she was beginning to hope didn’t make it blatantly obvious to the dwindling passersby how horny she truly was. Trying not to humor the thought, her attention centered onto the small of Vincenzo’s neck until the displays and the people and even her surroundings slowly melted out of existence. It was Vincenzo and Vincenzo alone. She didn’t even realize he’d guided her beyond a stanchioned off section of the building until they came to an abrupt stop so that he could move the red velvet rope out of the way. They were back on the move, but not for long. It seemed as if he was trying every door in the empty hallway, presumably looking for an unlocked office or something thereof.

By the fifth try, they had success. The door to a random room swung open. There was a brief moment where they both froze, mostly out of surprise. Cha-young’s heart felt like it could pound straight out of its cage, hammering in her ears to an extent where she wasn’t sure she could hear Vincenzo if he yelled — most likely some sort of Italian profanity she didn’t understand — at the top of his lungs. She watched the relief wash over his fine features, relaxing his shoulders and unknitting his brow which she delightfully observed by a rather close-up view of his profile. Vincenzo turned toward her then, the corners of his mouth curling slightly at first until his statement presumptuous smile made its appearance. She couldn’t stop herself from returning the gesture, lost in the coffee-colored irises that eagerly held her gaze.

Cha-young watched them gravitate down the hall and back, looking for stragglers before they locked onto her again. They drew her in with ease. Her pulse fluttered turbulently at the sight of Vincenzo’s pupils blowing wide. It was intoxicating. They lowered painstakingly, sizing her up from head to toe and back again, taking extra time to hover over her distinct curves and the exposed skin of her chest. Up until that moment, it was just another outfit outside of her typical pantsuit that she purchased simply because it accentuated her figure. But now, being subjected to Vincenzo’s particularly keen eye, it was as if her entire gown was made of the gold bricks she helped pull out of Geumga Plaza’s secret basement.

For the tiniest moment, Cha-young knew she was the very center of Vincenzo’s universe. The entire last year seemed to slip away. There was nothing left standing between them anymore, and nothing stopping them from taking it further. She stepped forward, clearing the distance between them. Her heels marked the distance by the distinctive sound they made against the tile floor. Vincenzo inhaled sharply. Cha-young watched his shoulders markedly rise. Her lungs seized up in response as her heart began thrumming to an even more unsteady beat. They were a mere breath away, staring into each other’s eyes, waiting to see which one of them would break first.

It wasn’t even a contest. Neither of them were even in the running. Their lips collided, meeting halfway. Cha-young could feel Vincenzo’s hands curling around her waist and up the back of her black dress as they pulled her close before they clumsily navigated into the dark room. She clung onto his forearms near the elbow, gripping onto him as if he would somehow keep her from drifting into the sky like a hot air balloon. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she perceived the sound of the door closing, but she couldn’t put much thought into anything beyond what she could taste underneath her tongue or what she could feel beneath her fingertips or the intense fire ravaging her insides. Heat prickled across her skin before gravitating behind her navel. Something hard rammed into her hip, scattering her thoughts briefly before the weightless feeling overwhelmed her.

Vincenzo deposited her onto the desk, disregarding formalities; his fingertips pressed into her hips. The owner's nameplate, among other personal items, went scattering across the wooden surface to make room for her body. Supplies of differing varieties fell unceremoniously onto the floor. Something glass shattered. It was hardly here nor there. Their kisses were becoming more desperate. Vincenzo was ravenous, leaving Cha-young’s lips to claim the column of her neck as his own. A lustful moan was drawn from her throat as she curled her fingers around the thicker shoulder material of Vincenzo’s Booralro suit jacket. It was the first time anyone had put their lips there. The fragmented memory of wanting to kiss the olive skin at the nape of Vincenzo’s neck flashed behind Cha-young’s half-lidded eyes as the realization slowly sunk in.

Lost in the feeling, she didn’t realize Vincenzo had stopped. He was hovering just above her rapid pulse, breathing her in. His forehead was pressed against her temple. She tilted her head to the side as an open invitation for him to continue down the current path. A long, deep breath expelled slowly from her lungs to offset the downright indecent noise her lungs just produced. She could feel Vincenzo’s chest rising and falling at an expeditious rate, like he’d been running tirelessly without end. It was slower than hers but by no means even. Each inhale marked the time. One…two…three…

…four…?

Why wasn’t he continuing?

Was her signal not clear enough?

Cha-young turned toward him slowly, curiosity brimming behind her lashes. His eyes were dark as he backed away to meet her gaze. Their noses brushed. Seeing Vincenzo like this, mouth parted slightly, breathless, as his focus pierced her lips, dismantled her at the seams. The liquid heat was suddenly too intense to control. She could feel how wet she’d become anticipating — wanting — more to come of this. She shifted her hips slightly in a failed attempt to open her legs for him, seeing as he was awkwardly straddling her thighs while leaning in to comfortably reach her. Unfortunately, her fitted dress was a little too tight, giving her no more than a sprawled out hand’s width of space between her knees. It wouldn’t by any means get them anywhere fast.

Vincenzo’s eyes flitted to her lap with the movement. His legs gave out. She watched him lower himself onto the ground. The grip on his shoulders tightened; her eyes never wavering from his intense stare boring into her lap. His hands slid across her textured dress, around her hips, and down her thighs until they landed at the bottom seam of her gown, which, given the position she was in, was almost cropped up to her knees. He thumbed the skin on the inside of her kneecaps before hooking them under the neatly sewn hem. The intense warmth pouring off his calloused palms could have probably burned a hole straight through her clothing if they hovered for too long. She concentrated on his subtle movements — his touch consuming her from the outside in — as he slid her dress back up the tantalizing path he took to get there. Reluctantly, Cha-young removed her hands from his shoulders to help lift her hips so that the majority of the fabric of her t-length dress was pulled shamelessly around her waist.

Her lace-framed cheeks were barely touching the desk before Vincenzo’s heady voice broke the volatile silence, “You look good like this.”

Startled, Cha-young bucked her leg as she called out, “Hey!” accidentally catching Vincenzo full-on in the crotch with the top of her foot. Realizing a moment too late what she’d done, her hands rapidly covered her mouth to stifle the detectable gasp escaping through her lips. He groaned, folding over in half with a pained smile on his face, until his forehead dropped against her bare thigh and he rolled back on his heels.

A beat passed. Neither of them dared to move. “Are you okay?” Cha-young asked timidly from behind her palms.

“What a welcome,” Vincenzo murmured in a discernible sarcastic undertone with his face still buried in her leg. But the way his lips danced against her skin and his breath tickled her thigh sent her entire world reeling. She lowered a solitary hand, drawn into the closeness that had her tethered like a buoy in a hurricane. Her fingers combed through his raven-colored hair over the crown of his head, delicately to the point of uncertainly at first, following his natural part, before dipping toward the back of his neck. She let her manicured fingernails tenderly draw across his unblemished skin as the thought of kissing that exact spot earlier came flooding back. All she would have to do was lean forward and take it to claim it as her own.

Without even realizing it, Cha-young was gravitating forward of her own volition. She could feel Vincenzo’s body freezing up, paralyzed by the curiosity of what was coming next. A little guilt mixed in with her ardent desire to kiss his neck knowing that Vincenzo’s face would be caged between her thighs, but the thought of him — someone so predominately strong and forthcoming, someone who had to have his way — entirely at her mercy was equally as irresistible as it was thrilling. She could barely contain her excitement as she pressed her two cherry-red lips against his nape, right next to his scar, making sure to at least leave a little cerise lipstick stain as a way to say she’d seen, came, and conquered, though maybe not in that particular order.

As Cha-young slowly righted herself, she watched Vincenzo lift his head to meet her gaze but kept himself low, willing to stay on his knees for her. She flashed him an innocent look by batting her eyelashes, pretending to be unaware of the effect that small act had on them both or the apology that it meant underneath the surface. She could visibly see the want burning behind his irises. It consumed the once serene lines of his face and replaced them with expressive need. Her lower lip rolled between her teeth. Vincenzo’s lips parted open with a silent gasp, his gaze glued onto the motion if it was his last grip on sanity.

The pooling heat deep in her abdomen began festering like an unkept wound. Cha-young lifted her lower leg at the knee, gently sliding her heel between Vincenzo’s legs and pressing it up against his groin. She could feel the bulge of his cock still confined by the cashmere wool of his pants and decided she rather liked the thought of it. For the time being, Vincenzo was in the palm of her hand. She was in control, taking the reins, and guiding him along for once.

“You should be careful,” Vincenzo began; his breathing became uneven the moment Cha-young pushed the point of her heel into the soft skin just below his balls. A low groan slipped out, fueling a rush of pride that further soaked her panties. He looked so vulnerable in this state, so easy to manipulate, weak almost to the point of helplessness that she couldn’t even take command of the thoughts that followed. She continued holding pressure against it until Vincenzo was no longer resting on his heels but was kneeling as if in prayer. Eventually, Vincenzo found the air he needed to finish his sentence, “someone might think you’re actually enjoying this.”

A coy smile upturned the corners of Cha-young’s lips. It only fueled her desire to dominate him in some form or another, at least for a little while. She lifted her legs and draped them over his shoulders. There was a little fear mixed with the excited anticipation hanging in suspense and perceived in the hopeful expression that lit up Vincenzo’s entire countenance. Perhaps he simply didn’t realize Cha-young wasn’t the type of person to lay down and take it. No. Of course not. He knew exactly what kind of person she was. He had her pegged from day one. Maybe even at first sight. He must’ve known this was just as much for her enjoyment as it would be for his.

“Maybe it’s you that should be careful. Someone might think,” she tightened her legs, reeling him in effortlessly, “you’re enjoying this too.”

Vincenzo’s cheeky smile only grew. Cha-young couldn’t help but feel a little piqued by the exceptional resistance of his impudence. She guessed that’s just who they were. She was a match and he was kerosine. Together they made waves. They could take on the entire world and somehow find a way to win. She shouldn’t be surprised that nothing changed over the last year. It was testament how a memory could be preserved no matter the distance and regardless of the length of time.

She expelled her breath attempting to dissolve the minor irritation, but it came out as more of a huff than she intended. Of course, nothing could slip past Vincenzo. He dropped kisses on the inside of her thigh, feigning ignorance, while drawing his hands slowly up her calves. His gentle touch gave his calluses the sensation of silk-like quality, causing her entire body to shudder and her back to arch slightly. About halfway, he purred, “Does my presence vex you?”

“Your stubbornness, maybe,” Cha-young replied honestly, her voice weak as he continued his trail of open-mouthed kisses up her legs. They were left at random like constellations illuminating the country sky, burning an intense trail all the way to the apex of her thighs. A weight was beginning to sink down her midline, increasing her need for more. Her hands, which had since returned to her sides, gripped the edge of the desk until her knuckles blanched white. The showy attitude of his had her keyed up and impatient. Her legs continued to flex, pulling him closer and closer, but it was like he was resisting her unvoiced begging as if it were trivial or nonexistent altogether. Every beat of her rampant heart amplified the sensation of being consumed little by little. Except there was no life vest and no way to escape. She was losing this fight.

Once Vincenzo’s hands — which he infuriating kept in check — reached the outer curve of her hips, he stopped. She couldn’t breathe as his fingers hooked around her panties, slowly dragging them down her bare legs. She was left exposed in anticipation, her body primed and ready and dripping with slick, hungry for a taste of intimate desire only one person could satiate. The arch of her back swelled in presentment just as Vincenzo freed the lacy undergarment from her second heel. She watched him halt in his tracks on his way back up, his jaw slack as he looked her over again. His eyes were slow to move from her vagina and it was obvious.

“You look really good like this,” he amended, his voice barely above a whisper.

The smile came naturally, but Cha-young was certain it was obvious how nervous she was. The passionate eagerness helped boost her confidence but it was built on a weak foundation. She was out on display, openly reduced to a puddle that was minutes, if not seconds, away from petitioning for Vincenzo to move closer and use that pretty mouth of his to offer her more than words. The suspense had her muscles in knots. Her heart had all but shattered its bony cage, tumbling in and out of her chest like a wild stampede. Her vagina was even pulsing, longing for some sort of attention even if it was something as little as a taste; a promise of what was to come. If this continued on like this, she would have no other choice but to openly beg.

Vincenzo’s hands returned. His fingertips pressed into her skin at the crease of her hips, gripping her like a vice. Instinctively, Cha-young looped her ankles together securely behind Vincenzo’s back — perhaps in a way that she could exert some semblance of control if he decided he suddenly wished to retreat — and rolled her hips seductively in an attempt to draw him in. Like a fish to bait, he deciphered the implication and, without hesitation, dove straight in. Zero to one hundred with no time to process or compartmentalize. His mouth felt like a furnace against her vagina which had been left out in the cold unattended for so long now, Cha-young was slightly worried it had shriveled and wilted like a sun-dried squid on the line. Her body quivered from the wetness of his tongue as he fitted it between her folds. He maneuvered around with precision, circling her clit with the appropriate amount of pressure to prevent any possible overstimulation. Unable to take the inordinate sensation that rocked her hips and spread her legs like a needy whore, her hands left the edge of the desk and wove into his hair, rooting him in place.

He suckled, drawing her clit between his lips. A filthy moan that could’ve only been born from the continuous movement against her pussy unleashed from the depths of her lungs. She felt Vincenzo’s gratified exhale up close and personal, spurring an electrified earthquake that shook her limbs for a few unsteady moments. One hand dropped back against the wooden grain of the desk. It was the only thing keeping her from completely falling backwards. Arching her spine again, Cha-young used her legs around Vincenzo’s shoulders as leverage to bring her cunt closer to the source of her pleasure. She moved in time with him, synching to the swirls of his velvety tongue dancing across her swollen clit. Her breath was coming out in audible gasps. She could feel her body slowly building up to a climax.

Two fingers skillfully slid between her folds, pushing into her dripping vagina with ease. Cha-young’s panting hitched to allow her lungs to draw in a deep gasp. Her entire body twitched from the unexpected, and rather sudden, additional titillation. The steadily rising tempo took a sudden turn as if Vincenzo knew precisely what to do at the exact right time. His fingers moved in and out in quick succession, persistently chasing down her building orgasm like he was an assassin hunting his prey. Her arm gave out. She hit the desk, displacing even more items as her entire body shuddered. At some point, she stopped trying to quiet her moans. She could’ve cared less if anyone heard them. Vincenzo didn’t stop until she broke, body collapsing into its climax. Her cunt released, sending convulsing waves of relief washing over her entire body. The tension in her muscles slowly gave out until she was sprawled out across the entire desk, arms splayed out like a bird in flight.

For a moment, Cha-young laid still simply to catch her breath. Her chest heaved in and out, overwhelmed by exhaustion. A few latent spasms followed as Vincenzo slowed his movements to a complete stop, pulling his fingers from her vagina. Her legs slipped heavily from his shoulders as he slowly rose to his feet. Through half-lidded eyes, she watched him step between her legs and drop his hands against the desk on either side of her waist. His entire body looked like it was on edge. She wondered, briefly, if this was how he looked behind the barrel of a gun. His intense stare held the weight of the world as he pressed up against her throbbing groin, grinding against her swollen cunt with his confined dick. It scattered her thoughts. She didn’t want to think about the mess her slick was making against the expensive fabric, so, against her better judgment, her mind chose to focus on that exact detail as it had with the nape of his neck. So what if she ruined one of his suits? With the amount of gold she had hidden on her property, she could easily buy him another. Or ten. Or a hundred. Easy.

“I’m not finished with you yet,” Vincenzo gruffed, his voice dripping with pent-up, lustful frustration. Cha-young swooned at the noise, rolling her hips nice and slow to prove a point. She reached a lazy hand around, fishing for the royal blue tie hanging from his neck. Capturing it with surprising ease, she lured him in. The pressure against her cunt increased the closer he came. When their lips met, a small moan released directly into his mouth, humming against his tongue. She could faintly taste her slick, the foreign tang lingering even after Vincenzo broke away. He ran his hands across the front of her dress, groping around the massive decorative bow to hunt down her breasts. He expertly thumbed across her nipples. Despite being covered by multiple layers, she felt the jolt smarting through her body. He didn’t linger long, though she only truly noticed his absence when the cold air started to settle in.

Following the sound of rustling, she avidly watched him discard his jacket and unbutton his slacks, releasing his dick with a lively spring. Now that it had been laid entirely bare, it was surprisingly large. Her heart inadvertently skipped a beat or two at the view. Vincenzo ran his hand up and down the shaft with slow but authoritative strokes. He was watching her intently; his eyes never wavering from hers. Worrying her lip, Cha-young cranked open her legs a standard more, willingly — and earnestly — offering her body to him. She could feel herself getting wet again, musing the thoughts of what would happen in the coming seconds. The thrill compounded as she realized someone could potentially walk in on them at any moment. One of her stray hands seductively navigated across her body, around the gigantic bow adorning her right breast before coming to a stop at her pussy. She dipped two fingers into her cunt, covering them with slick before slowly drawing them back out to tease her clit with slow, undulating circles.

“Fuck me,” Cha-young posed, bordering on begging. Requesting something she knew was actively coming her way still felt empowering, especially Vincenzo’s stunned reaction following her words. He stepped forward, unleashing hell upon her heart. It was almost deafening as he ran his bare dick across her cunt, wetting it before pushing it between her folds. Her pussy welcomed him in, hugging his cock like Cha-young wanted to embrace Vincenzo every day after his year-long absence. A low whine sounded as he slowly pushed himself further in. His hands relocated, one on the right side of her waist, laying flat against the desk, and the other over the globe of her left breast.

Just as he paced himself before, Vincenzo’s momentum was slow at first. He took his time, drawing out the entire length of his dick before pushing it back in again. The vulgar sounds from the wetness of her pussy seemed to echo louder than her earlier moans, evoking Cha-young to still her body. Embarrassment burned her cheeks. Thankfully, neither of them were too conscious enough upon entering the empty office to bother flipping on the light, so she was more than certain the shadows couldn’t betray her. Still, there was nothing to be ashamed of. Reminding herself of that, she found herself grasping for Vincenzo’s tie once more, leading him back to her lips. His tongue flirted with hers until their open mouthed kisses grew more heated. Vincenzo’s hand, leisurely fondling her clothed breast, slipped across the fabric and up her exposed chest where it wrapped around the back of Cha-young’s neck. He lifted slightly, tipping back her jaw so that he could press impulsive kisses against her jugular, eliciting yet another moan as he claimed more of her skin. Heat began to center around her navel again. She couldn’t take much more of this. 

“Fuck me,” she whispered into his ear. This time it was full-on begging.

Vincenzo slowly withdrew. There was a look of dumbfounded desire written all across his expression. It took less than a few unnecessary seconds for her words to sink in. He reached his hands towards her head, curled his fingers around the opposite end of the desk, and thrust hard and deep. Cha-young cried out. Back arching, her body readily embraced the sensation of being ravaged from the inside out. His punchy movements were deep, hitting places she’d never explored before. He humped without mercy, muddling her pussy with each delightful plunge as she carefully circled her clit. The desk began intermittently skidding across the floor from the force behind Vincenzo’s hips, squealing little by little. The cacophonous sound created a discordant melody with his guttural huffing and her own throaty moans. Somehow, still, she enjoyed the disagreeing harmony. It was like a symphonic orchestra just for the two of them, and it helped prime her body for the second time. If she tried hard enough, she knew she could reach for another climax.

Tightening her swirls, Cha-young focused on her heartbeat and the unsteady rise and fall of her chest, honing in on the filthy moans coming out of Vincenzo’s mouth. She draped a hand around the back of his neck, more for her own sanity. Beads of sweat damped her skin as he continued to plow into her over and over again. She was getting close, and, judging by his ragged breathing, so was Vincenzo. Mimicking his actions earlier, she pressed her lips against his pulse. As expected, it was flighty. His skin was salty. It tasted different from his lips that had aided in her first orgasm. Another lewd moan was forcibly drawn out of her lungs as the memory of him brazenly kissing her immediately after he went down on her crossed her mind. Shameless. Unholy. And he called himself a Catholic.

She felt her body convulsing before she realized she reached the peak. The descent was much easier than the climb, even the second time around. With a few more vigorous thrusts, Vincenzo buried his cock into her pussy, unleashing his own orgasm in thick spurts. She could feel his dick pulsing inside her as he finished; the last traces of his hot cum spilled out, filling her up. Her body collapsed against the desk as he slowly pulled out. A steady stream of cuss words cascaded from his mouth in both Italian and Korean as he backed away. The silence that settled around them post-sex made them even more audible.

Cha-young closed her eyes. The last of her orgasm settled into her joints. Her entire body ached. But what she’d give to be able to crawl into bed and enjoy an entire night tangled up in Vincenzo’s arms. Here or there. Anywhere. She wasn’t going to be picky. She couldn’t afford to be picky. Unfortunately, she more than anyone knew how precious time was. It wasn’t in the cards. At least not tonight. Not during this impromptu meeting. Mustering up the courage, she slowly picked her back up off the desk and slid onto the floor. Her legs felt like jelly, but she managed — with a little more help from the desk than she wanted to admit — to stay upright. Vincenzo had found an empty chair and had thrown himself haphazardly into it, sinking into the cushions. He was running his middle finger across his brow,  puffing out a deep breath, head rolled to the side, while looking entirely satisfied to the point of lethargic. His hair was disheveled. His clothes even more so. He must’ve found his pants but his shirt remained untucked. His tie was askew, mostly thanks to Cha-young’s rather aggressive grip on it, surely. The unkept look somehow agreed with him. Their eyes met at once.

The fog behind his eyelashes seemed to clear as Cha-young stepped forward, shimmying her dress back over her hips. Vincenzo slowly fixed his posture, making room for her as she eased herself next to him. Their lips met. A muffled, content sigh escaped from her lungs as she settled comfortably against his body. She tucked her forehead into the crook of his neck, relishing in the way he naturally wrapped his arms around her. His heart beat had calmed significantly, but it still made its presence known, reverberating dynamically within the confines of his ribs. As she lost herself to the cadence, Vincenzo absentmindedly played with her hair still expertly pulled back into a pony at the base of her skull. Another dreamy exhale followed, this time from his lips instead of hers. Her eyelids felt heavy. It was obvious they were both fighting sleep at this point, not to mention speaking the words neither of them wanted to hear but eventually had to admit. She wished she didn’t have to. She wished it wouldn’t end like this again. Even though so much was different, it felt exactly like the last time.

Knowing they couldn’t idly sit for too much longer, Cha-young hunted down one of Vincenzo’s hands and pulled it close to her chest. She kissed one of his fingers, whispering, “I miss you already.”

He snorted breathily, smiling. “I haven’t left yet.”

“But you will.” She kissed another finger as the unsteady silence descended upon them. It wasn’t spoken as an accusation or to place blame but as a statement of truth.

Gently clearing his throat, Vincenzo suggested, “Come to my island then.” He was offering yet another invitation. Third time's the charm, right? Not that Cha-young hadn’t already made up her mind.

Pressing another finger to her mouth, she explained audaciously like — if her memory served her correctly — a spoiled brat, “But I don’t want my own room. Can’t I stay in yours?”

Vincenzo chortled. It was soft and sweet. “Of course.”

Cha-young hummed as if she had to think about the answer. She took her time, kissing the last two fingers of Vincenzo’s hand before turning to meet his gaze. He was looking back longingly. There was still pain lingering behind his eyes, masked predominately by what she hoped was a deep and abiding sense of love. She briefly wondered if it would always be there. Again, she already knew the answer.

“You really mean it?”

His smile never wavered as he nodded.

Cupping both sides of his face with her hands, she planted another kiss on his lips. No one said her answer had to come in the form of words, or that the last few hours of their time together had to be spent exclusively outside of this room, parading about the other diplomats while viewing the various displays that had been set out as entertainment, tying their two countries together by various means. She was content sitting there, pressed against Vincenzo’s body she had, up until that moment, only dreamed of becoming so intimate with. Eventually, she wanted to memorize the gentle crests and troughs between his muscles and the sharp contour of his jaw and even the vast areas of skin that were always covered up in her presence. She wanted to know every secret hidden behind his mysterious, mocha-colored irises. None of this could be achieved today. Cha-young understood that well enough. Her mind knew it had to focus on the indisputable fact that Vincenzo risked his life to be there for her even though their time together would be short, that things were finally looking brighter, but her heart wasn’t as easy to convince. She’d been hurt too many times before, walked that same path time and time again, and it hadn’t exactly worked out for her. Not yet anyway.

“Promise me we’ll always find each other.”

Vincenzo smiled. It was caring and understanding, two things she couldn’t have asked for but wanted all the same. He leaned in, taking her lips confidently. It left no room for doubt to take root. ‘Things would be different,’ he was saying. ‘Trust me.’ And how could she not? Vincenzo was a man of his word. No matter the price, it would be done. That much she was certain.

When they broke their embrace, Cha-young leaned back to get a good look at Vincenzo’s face. It seemed he was mirroring her actions. He brought his hands around her body to cup her jawline; his thumbs tracing invisible curves across her cheeks. The after-glow was quite a sight. She imagined how he’d look after a good fucking, but this was on a whole other level. Somehow, she’d fallen even more in love with him in that moment. It was truly unfair that he had to leave. Just when she thought her heart couldn’t grow or break any more.

Unexpectedly, Vincenzo leaned forward, pressing his lips against her forehead. “Don’t worry.” His words pierced straight into her soul. His breath was hot against her skin. It was a mere whisper, but the world was suddenly whirling underneath them at an expeditious rate. “I promise I’ll always find you.”

It was an answer she never imagined getting in the form of words, but she couldn’t even describe the relief or the happiness she felt after they reached her ears. She leaned in again, taking his lips without hesitation, hoping he could understand the message she wanted to convey but was still too afraid to utter aloud.

‘I love you.’