Seol Yu-jin’s face flushed hot in an instant, a surge of blood rushing to his cheeks. Why had he even tried to stand up to this man? In the end, the only one who would end up hurt was him. Overcome with self-loathing and humiliation, he couldn’t hold back his sharp words.
“Go die somewhere, Winston Atticus Campbell!”
The fact that this was the harshest insult he could muster only made it more infuriating. Grinding his teeth, Yu-jin spun around and stomped away, determined to put as much distance as possible between himself and the man behind him. But, unfortunately, things didn’t go as planned.
“Ah!”
A sudden yank from behind seized his arm, and before he knew it, a startled cry escaped his lips. His body was immediately pulled backward, slamming against a rock-solid frame. The impact sent a jolt of pain through him, momentarily dazing his senses. Then, belatedly, he felt warmth—Winston’s body heat against his own. It took him a moment to realize that he hadn’t even managed to take a few proper steps before being caught.
He hadn’t even sensed his presence.
The realization that all his efforts had been utterly meaningless sent a cold shiver down Yu-jin’s spine. What was Winston planning to do? He couldn’t bring himself to look up at the man’s face.
“L-Let go!”
Yu-jin struggled with all his might to wrench his arm free, but, of course, it was futile. Instead, Winston wrapped his remaining arm around Yu-jin’s waist, pulling him in even closer. The sudden proximity made Yu-jin gasp in shock, his breath hitching. Winston tilted his head, amusement flickering in his sharp gaze.
“I already granted your wish once, didn’t I? Unfortunately, I couldn’t quite manage to die for you.”
But he had made a trip to death’s doorstep. And it had all been because of Yu-jin.
Knowing this, Yu-jin couldn’t deny that his words had been cruel. He was about to apologize, but then—suddenly—he remembered.
How many times had this man humiliated him?
The guilt vanished without a trace, replaced by a surge of renewed fury.
“If you had died back then, Harold would have left everything to me, wouldn’t he? He wouldn’t have made such a foolish decision in his will.”
Yu-jin was certain that this time, Winston would be at a loss for words. Maybe, just maybe, he’d lash out in anger—strike him across the face.
He braced himself for it.
But Winston’s reaction was nothing like he had expected.
For a brief moment, his expression stiffened. Then, as if melting away, it transformed into a smile—one so sweet it sent a chill down Yu-jin’s spine.
“But, darling, my father did leave me something.”
The hand gripping Yu-jin’s arm moved up to his face. Long fingers traced along his cheek, making him freeze. Yu-jin’s breath caught as Winston’s touch slid down his jaw, his voice dropping into a tender whisper.
“My father’s young concubine.”
The fingers caressing his cheek trailed lower, grazing the side of his neck.
Yu-jin’s body went rigid with a sudden, terrifying realization—he wasn’t sure if Winston was about to strangle him.
Winston’s eyes narrowed, his gaze darkening.
“And I am expected to bed that concubine… and give him a child.”
His voice was laced with bitter amusement, a quiet, cynical laugh escaping his lips.
Five strong fingers hovered near Yu-jin’s throat. If he pressed down—just slightly—Yu-jin would be completely at his mercy.
Yu-jin was visibly trembling now.
“I-I was wrong.”
In the end, he surrendered to fear. His voice, barely squeezed out between stammers, made Winston tilt his head.
“What?”
Yu-jin couldn’t answer right away. His eyelashes fluttered anxiously. Why was he asking that? Wasn’t he doing this because of what I said? Then what answer does he want from me?
As Yu-jin hesitated, unable to part his lips, Winston let out a faint smile.
“Telling me to die? Or…”
There was a hint of amusement in his voice, a quiet chuckle laced in his words. Holding his breath, Yu-jin watched as Winston continued.
“Sleeping with my father?”
Four fingers lightly tapped against the nape of Yu-jin’s neck, like someone playing the keys of a piano. The unexpected touch made Yu-jin flinch. Winston, now cupping his throat with one hand, lowered his head. Their faces were so close that his breath brushed against Yu-jin’s skin. Those deep violet eyes stared into him, and in a voice so quiet it could have been a whisper of air, he murmured—
“Or was it bearing my father’s child and showing up in front of me like this?”
Yu-jin couldn’t answer. If he made the slightest mistake, he was certain Winston would tighten his grip and choke him. He could feel the man’s fury radiating through his skin. He wanted to choose his words carefully, but his mind refused to function.
Say something. You have to calm him down.
Otherwise—
He might actually kill me.
His lips moved involuntarily, pushed open by terror. With trembling eyes, Yu-jin forced out a hoarse response.
“Harold and I… we weren’t like that…”
He barely managed to get the words out, but all that came in response was a soft, scoffing chuckle.
“Of course not.”
The dismissive reaction drained Yu-jin of any remaining strength to argue. His lips pressed together in frustration. Winston said nothing for a moment as he looked down at him, his smirk slowly fading. The harsh gleam in his eyes dimmed. The once sharp purple hue darkened into something closer to the night sky. And then—
The hand that had been gripping Yu-jin’s throat slid upward, cradling the back of his head, pulling him in.
Ah.
Yu-jin let out a quiet, unbidden sigh.
He’s going to kiss me.
He could feel it. Winston was going to kiss him.
All he had to do was close his eyes.
If he did, their lips would meet. Their tongues would tangle, their saliva mingling. Would Winston bite his lower lip again? If he did, then I—
Yu-jin’s heart pounded violently, his body heating up as if this moment was what he had been waiting for all along.
He was certain—this kiss, at least, he would never be able to refuse.
But then—
And you still think you’re not a whore?
The memory struck him like a slap.
All the heat in his veins turned ice-cold.
So did Winston’s gaze.
And in that moment, Yu-jin realized just how insane he had been.
“W-What the hell are you doing?! Let go! I said, let go!”
At the last possible moment, Yu-jin dodged the kiss, letting out a sharp cry as he struggled to break free from Winston’s grasp. Caught off guard by the sudden resistance, Winston lost his hold on him.
“Ah!”
“Watch out!”
Yu-jin lost his balance, his body swaying dangerously. Winston shouted, his voice filled with urgency.
A vivid image of himself crashing face-first into the ground flashed through Yu-jin’s mind, making him squeeze his eyes shut in anticipation of the impact. But surprisingly, the pain never came.
Instead, Winston had yanked him back at the last second, wrapping his arms around him and taking the fall himself.
Haah… Haah…
It took Yu-jin a few seconds to fully grasp what had just happened.
Dazed, he lay there, panting. The earth beneath him, covered in countless clovers, was unexpectedly warm and firm.
Then, oddly enough, a rhythmic, steady sound reached his ears.
It took him another few moments to realize—it was Winston’s heartbeat.
“W-Wait!”
“Where do you think you’re going?”
Yu-jin belatedly realized that Winston had cushioned his fall, lying beneath him. Flustered, he tried to push himself up, but, once again, Winston was faster.
Before he could escape, Winston’s arms tightened around his waist, pulling him back down.
“L-Let go of me!”
“Calm down.”
Yu-jin struggled wildly, but Winston held him firmly in place, pressing a hand to the back of his head and burying his face against his shoulder.
He fought with everything he had, but it was a futile effort from the start. His strength drained quickly, and soon, all he could do was gasp for breath, his body going still.
For a while, neither of them spoke.
Only Winston’s heartbeat echoed softly in Yu-jin’s ears, steady and unwavering—oddly enough, it was… comforting.
“This has happened before, hasn’t it?”
Winston murmured, as if reading his thoughts.
And he was right.
So many times, Yu-jin had ended up draped over Winston like this. Every time they had sex, without fail.
Afterward, Winston would pull him onto his chest, caressing his ass, pressing kisses along his face—only to lay him back down and start all over again.
Ah.
Was it because he was thinking about it now?
Yu-jin suddenly felt it—the unmistakable hardness pressing against him from below.
The very same cock that had filled him over and over, the one that had stretched him to his limit, was now rising just as it had then.
And just like that, Yu-jin’s own body began to heat up again.
