Mint Is Pure Love - Chapter 54

“I’m not thinking about work anymore today, so get up and go.”

Their eyes locked again—reading, measuring, deciding whether to push forward or pull back.

In that moment, Yeonseo saw it. Cha Seokyung’s eyes trembling ever so slightly.

“…So, how far can we go today?”

It was as good as admitting defeat without saying it out loud.

“Can you pace yourself, Ji Yeonseo?” he asked, his voice tinged with mocking amusement.

“I’ll try. Four seasons is a long time, after all.”

The faint smile on Seokyung’s lips slowly faded.

“Don’t worry. We’ll get to the destination before the year’s over.”

“That’s not something I’m worried about.”

He looked utterly confident, relaxed even.

“If anything, I’m more concerned you’ll slam the gas pedal all the way down.”

The jab pricked her nerves, but only for a moment—because his next question came fast, his expression now edged with impatience.

“So… how far can we go today?”

He tried to mask it, but she could see the restless edge in his face. Yeonseo ignored the strange satisfaction that gave her and answered.

“…Just kissing today.”

“What about touching?”

“No.”

Hearing that, Seokyung let his arm drop onto his thigh, then straightened his back. Leaning in, close enough for his breath to skim her skin, he murmured.

“Then you do it.”

“…?”

“I’m not sure I can hold back, so you do it, Ji Yeonseo.”

His red, damp lips slid into her vision, tempting her. Between them, the tiniest parting of his mouth drew her in.

“Kiss me, Ji Yeonseo.”

Her head dipped toward him as if under a spell. Like a devotee offering herself to the kiss of the one she adored, she pressed her lips to his—softly at first, then letting them meld. Lips, skin, and tongues brushed together.

Yeonseo’s kiss was clumsy.

And that alone sent a rush through Seokyung, satisfaction sliding down his spine. Just the fact that Ji Yeonseo was bad at kissing thrilled him.

But that thrill didn’t last long. The second their tongues touched, she pulled hers away, leaving him restless and craving more.

The moment he chased after that soft, slippery warmth, she turned her head, breaking the kiss. Their lips parted, and ragged breaths spilled out. Only a few seconds of that forbidden closeness, and yet her fingertips tingled. They hadn’t even truly tangled tongues, but heat still surged up to her skull.

He wanted to grab her slender nape, pull her in, and devour her—her breath, her saliva, everything he could take. The thirst was maddening.

He caught her waist when she stepped back half a pace. Beneath his palm, under the thin fabric of her pajama top, her waist was smooth and pliant.

“Ah—no… your hand, only where I said you could—”

“Then hurry up and put your lips back on mine.”

He silently cursed himself for agreeing to her condition, wondering what the hell he’d been thinking ten minutes ago. But really, what choice had there been? She told him to leave if he didn’t like it.

“Come on.”

Feigning nonchalance—like his mood had been spoiled—he threw out a sulky challenge.
That was all it took for Yeonseo to come closer again.

Seokyung tilted his head toward her, helpless now, like someone surrendering himself to her decision.

Her long, silky hair slipped down over them, draping like a curtain. Then Yeonseo’s lips found him again.

This time, it lingered longer. Seokyung savored it, slowly curling his tongue around hers.

“…Mm… ngh…”

He tilted his head slightly, and the kiss deepened. Just a little longer—don’t pull away—just let me keep you here a little longer. That plea ran through his mind as he kissed her back.

He curled his tongue around hers, sucked gently, brushed along her palate, and licked the neat line of her upper teeth. A soft moan slipped from Yeonseo’s throat.

“…Come up here.”

Seokyung pulled her onto his lap, settling her across his thighs as he sat on the edge of the bed.

With her knees spread wide, it was almost like she was straddling his waist, facing him—and Yeonseo felt a flicker of embarrassment. This position was… a bit much—

“If you don’t give me permission, I won’t touch you. It’s just… this position’s uncomfortable,” Seokyung said, as if making a promise. He leaned back, resting both arms behind him.

As his body tilted back, Yeonseo’s weight shifted forward, pressing her against his firm chest. Her soft, full br3asts brushed against him.

“…Bring your lips here.”

It was Yeonseo who gave the order— and Cha Seokyung, who obeyed.

Their lips stayed locked, caught in the soft, plush, smooth warmth of each other, neither willing to let go.

Yeonseo’s breathing grew ragged, and when their mouths finally parted, she only had a moment to catch her breath before Seokyung demanded another kiss. It was the only thing she’d allowed him, so he took it without shame.

“…Hh—breath… I can’t… breathe…”

Her lips broke away again.

“Why’s your stamina so bad? You never exercised in high school either…”

Frustrated that she couldn’t read the room when he was practically dying here, Seokyung let out a petty jab. Her lips, glossy and shining from his saliva, were swollen and red from all the biting and sucking.

He steadied his breathing. Yeah… this wasn’t going to cut it.

“Ji Yeonseo, do I have to give you permission too?”

“For what…?”

“If I’m only allowed to touch you where you say so… then what about the other way around? Do you need my permission to touch me?”

“…What?”

She tilted her head slightly, cheeks flushed from the unfamiliar heat of the moment—even though all they’d really done was bite and taste each other’s lips and tongues.

Seokyung tugged off the body towel covering his lower half—useless now anyway—and tossed it aside.

“You can touch me.”

“…”

“You can touch me anywhere, Ji Yeonseo.”

He didn’t add I’m giving you full permission at once, but she understood it that way.

Yeonseo’s gaze dropped, dazed, to the anywhere he meant.

As if agreeing with its owner’s will, the thick length in front of her gave a slow, deliberate twitch. The size—both in length and girth—was almost excessive, making it feel less like a part of someone’s body and more like a living thing of its own.

For something born entirely of desire, it was strikingly clean in both color and shape.
The thick pink shaft—nearly the width of a forearm—tapered into a tip that was a shade deeper, almost red, and Yeonseo found herself startled at how… refined it looked.

A bead of moisture clung precariously between the slit at the head, and the moment her eyes lingered, it spilled over, trailing down the length.

“You can touch it.”

Yeonseo finally tore her gaze from his length and looked up at Cha Seokyung. His eyes, clouded with lust, burned hot enough to sear.

She figured she probably didn’t look much different. The damp heat beneath her shorts and thin cotton underwear was proof enough. Her eyes were probably as glazed as his.

Still… he told her she could touch him.
And that was exactly when the contrary streak she’d had since childhood—fueled by years of her grandmother’s scolding—decided to act up.

Instead of going for him directly, Yeonseo’s index finger skimmed past his shaft and traced a slow path up the firm plane of his chest.

Her fingertip traced downward again, following the contours of his body, and the large, solid frame beneath her gave a sudden twitch. The movement made her shift slightly where she sat on his thighs.

“Haa…”

Her fingers wandered over his lower stomach and the area around it, never once touching his length. Between them, the thick shaft stood tall, twitching for attention, as if begging look at me, touch me, spilling clear fluid—but she acted like she didn’t even notice.

When her hand, reaching up toward his firm chest, accidentally brushed the tip, Seokyung’s head fell back, a strained sound escaping through clenched teeth.

“…Ha, Ji Yeonseo.”

Yeonseo hadn’t known she had this kind of wicked streak in her. All she knew was that since she’d declared she’d set the pace, she couldn’t afford to give up control.

“Anywhere, you said?”

It was pure spite. The fact that he dared to talk about permission in a situation where she was supposed to be leading—when he’d probably given that same permission to plenty of other women—irked her.

Their gazes locked at close range, and Seokyung’s tongue slid slowly across his lips, as if tasting something that already belonged to him. His eyes never left hers.

“…Touch me.”

“…”

“Touch me, Yeonseo.”

His voice was steady, but there was no hiding the feverish heat simmering beneath it.

Only then did her fingers coyly graze the tip. A sticky bead of clear fluid clung to her fingertip. At her curious, clumsy motion, Seokyung’s throat rumbled low.

It was strange—when she lightly circled the head with her finger, the thick length gave a heavy twitch up and down. She swallowed, her dry throat moving.

When she looked up again, her eyes met his—dark and bottomless, like they could swallow her whole.

“…Ugh!”

In an instant, their positions flipped. Yeonseo’s head hit the familiar softness of her own pillow, and Cha Seokyung loomed over her. Planting his tense, veined arms on either side of her head, he lowered himself.

“Cha Seokyung! I—I’m the one who’s supposed to—”

“I know. We’ll go at your pace.”

He mumbled it almost mechanically before his lips crashed down on hers. He was careful not to touch any other part of her, but still positioned himself between her legs.

The kiss poured down on her, heavy and unrelenting, while below, there was a faint, rhythmic tak, tak of friction.

When their lips finally broke apart, he buried his face in the curve of her neck.

The rough friction, the slick, wet sounds, the obscene motion of his hand stroking up and down his d1ck, the bursts of warm breath spilling against her ear—every bit of it brushed against her senses.

Even without touching her directly, the way he moved, the air he seemed to breathe into her, skimmed over her most sensitive spots.

Her lower belly tightened, and she had to fight the urge to press her legs together. She wanted—achingly—to touch the place that throbbed and tingled between them.

“Haa…”

His lips found hers again. His hand moved faster, like he was pushing for the final sprint, and at the same time he sucked her tongue deep into his mouth. The sharp pull rattled her, her mind going hazy as her lower belly clenched in a sudden spasm.

“…Hhh…”

“Ha—ugh…!”

Seokyung suddenly sat up, snatching the towel he’d tossed aside earlier. Wrapping his hand around himself, he stroked hard, and thick white fluid shot from the tip, leaving streaks across the towel.

At the very moment he came, his eyes were on Yeonseo—spread out beneath him. That look, dark and predatory, seemed to lick, bite, and devour her, as if she were the final trigger for his release.

Yeonseo lay there helplessly, breathing hard, taking in every bit of his gaze. The crotch of her thin pajama pants was damp, clinging to her. After the rapid, pounding breaths—like she’d just run a hundred meters—came a wave of heavy exhaustion.

Her first orgasm, the lingering buzz of half a bottle of soju, the tension and excitement ebbing away… all of it crashed into her at once, pulling her eyelids shut. She didn’t see the way he was looking at her.

A whisper brushed her ear.

“Promise me one thing. For your four seasons—you only look at me.”

Even half-asleep, his voice pressed her for an answer, and she mumbled, “Mm… okay.”

After all, he’d given her what she wanted too.

True to his word, Cha Seokyung hadn’t touched a single place she hadn’t allowed.