He slammed the door behind them, the cheap hotel lock clicking like a starting gun. Hyunjin’s eyes were dark, pupils blown, sweat already beading along his sharp jaw. “On the bed. Now.” His voice was low, rough from the stage hours earlier, and it brooked no argument.
She stripped fast, clothes hitting the floor in a messy pile. Hyunjin didn’t bother with slow. He yanked his shirt off, muscles flexing under smooth skin, then shoved his jeans down. His cock sprang free, thick and already leaking at the tip. He wrapped a hand around it, stroking once, twice, eyes locked on her spread thighs.
“Fuck, look at that pussy,” he muttered, climbing onto the mattress. He didn’t tease. Two fingers pushed straight inside her, curling hard. She gasped, hips jerking, but he pinned her down with his free hand on her stomach. “Wet already. You’ve been thinking about this all night, haven’t you?”
He pumped his fingers fast, thumb grinding her clit in tight circles. Her moans came quick and loud. Hyunjin leaned in, biting the inside of her thigh hard enough to leave a mark. “Louder. Let the whole floor hear how I’m about to wreck you.”
When she was dripping down his wrist he pulled his fingers out, wiped them across her lips, then lined his cock up. One brutal thrust and he was buried to the hilt. She cried out; he just groaned, low and filthy, and started pounding. The headboard slammed the wall with every snap of his hips.
Skin slapped skin. Sweat dripped from his chest onto her stomach.
Hyunjin grabbed her wrists, pinned them above her head with one hand. The other wrapped around her throat, not squeezing hard, just enough to make her feel owned. “Take it,” he growled, fucking her like he was angry at how good it felt. “This tight cunt was made for my cock. Say it.”
She choked out the words between thrusts. He rewarded her by angling deeper, hitting the spot that made her vision spark. Her orgasm hit fast and mean, walls clenching around him. Hyunjin didn’t slow down. He fucked her straight through it, chasing his own release with short, vicious strokes.
When he came he buried himself deep, pulsing hot and thick inside her, a string of curses falling from his mouth. He stayed there, breathing hard, still half-hard, then pulled out slow so they both felt the mess.
But he wasn’t done. He flipped her onto her stomach, dragged her hips up, and slid back in with a wet sound. “Round two,” he said against her ear, voice already rough again. “And this time I want you screaming my name while I fill you up again.”
His pace stayed relentless, dirty, exactly what they both needed. The night stretched on in sweat, curses, and the relentless slap of skin until neither of them could move.
