Heart & Seoul (7 page)

Drake placed me on my feet and immediately
undressed, his eyes trained only on me while he did. I could only
watch as he exposed himself. The golden contours of his chest,
perfect sections carved into every inch. His solid thighs clad
behind black boxers.

That was until he pushed them down.

He hung naked before me with only confidence
in his gaze. Moving forward, he towered over me and pushed the robe
down my arms. It fell to the floor, and I was guided to the tub. He
got in first, and I was motioned to sit in front of him.

I nibbled my lip ring backing. “I want to
wash you first.”

He nodded, and the small smile he wore as he
moved forward so I could get in behind him made my heart leap.

The tub was quite large,
which was good. Drake was really tall and had long legs. There was
just enough room for me to get behind him. I wrapped my legs around
his waist like Julia Roberts did to Richard Gere in
Pretty Woman
. I smiled
at the thought. I really loved that movie.

After rubbing sweet smelling soap on my
hands, I started by massaging his shoulders. I moved the soap into
his beautiful skin. He was so tense, and it hurt my heart.

He moved his head forward, moaning softly
yet deeply, and I knew I was helping. His body grew more fluid in
my hands, and he placed his own on my calves wrapped around his
waist, working them under his strong touch.

Once I was done, I glided my hands down his
arms, then to his chest. He placed a hand on one of mine when I
did. I noticed he stopped it right over his heart. Smiling, I moved
my other hand to rinse him off. The soap cascaded down his back,
and I placed a kiss on every new section that cleared.

He drew in a breath, his heart racing under
my hand. When I was done rinsing him off, I pulled both arms around
his large body and laid my cheek on his back. He held my arms
there, and we sat in silence.

Out of nowhere, I found myself speaking.
“Drake?”

He was only silent for a moment. “Yeah?”

I rubbed my cheek on his back. “You
shouldn’t…” I bit my lip. Should I go there with him now? He was so
vulnerable, but maybe that was why I should. He needed to hear
something to make him feel better. Something positive. With that
notion, I continued. “You shouldn’t assume your mother didn’t care
about you because of the reason she gave you up.”

My hands rose and fell when he breathed in
deeply. “Lace…”

I closed my eyes, forcing myself to
continue. “I’m just saying you don’t know all the facts. Only your
birth mom knows that. You can’t let you heart fall that way.
Especially since you don’t know everything. You were completely
innocent in this and—”

His head lowered, and I couldn’t continue. I
felt I was only making things worse instead of better. After my
silence, he remained quiet and anxiety bubbled in my chest when he
released my hand from his heart.

“
Let me wash you now,” was
all he said.

He didn’t give me a chance to respond before
he stood from the water. I didn’t know what else to do but maneuver
around so he could. He didn’t have me move into the same position
we were in when I washed him. He motioned me to my knees, a tense
expression on his face. I knew I upset him. I did, so I stayed
quiet as he gathered soap. I didn’t want to make things worse.

He moved his large hands over my body. My
shoulders. My breasts. It wasn’t sexual, though. He was just
washing me like he said. He had me straddle him when his hand slid
between my legs. He didn’t look at me while he washed me there. I
closed my eyes, hating that I made things worse.

Once he had me rinsed and clean, he stood
and left the tub. His back was all I saw as he left the
bathroom.

I held my body in silence, feeling suddenly
self-conscious. Why couldn’t I have kept my mouth shut?

He came back, and he had a towel wrapped
around his waist, covering himself. He held out another towel on
his arm to me, the same tight expression on his face as when he
left.

I still had my arms wrapped around myself
when I stood. He got me covered quickly and lifted me from the tub.
I kept silent as he patted my body with the towel. The whole time
he was drying me I raked my mind on what to say. How I could
apologize for imposing on a situation I knew nothing about. I was
supposed to be his support system and all I did was mess things
up.

Suddenly, I was in his arms again. I slid my
arms around his neck, and he took me into the bedroom. I was placed
gently on the bed, then he left the room.

He left.

I pulled the towel in tight under my
fingertips, lowering my cheek to the pillow.

Quick steps padded into the room. I turned,
and my eyes twitched wide. It was Drake of course, but he’d removed
his towel, completely naked before me.

He stalked toward the bed, his breathing
rapid and a smolder in his eyes that made the breath leave me. The
bed dipped, and in the next moment, his large body was above me. I
didn’t have a second to think before his lips crashed down on
mine.

There was so much urgency, so much longing,
that I didn’t hesitate kissing him back. I wanted nothing more and
placed my hands to his cheeks, quickly becoming codependent on the
connection of our lips.

He ripped my towel open and ran a hot touch
over my body. I parted my legs and gasped when he pushed a long
finger directly inside me.

He groaned against my lips, inserting
another digit. He moved around, feeling his way inside me, and my
back bowed off the bed from the pressure.

“
Lacey…” he breathed
against my lips.

The feeling of his fingers was so intense, I
whimpered, gripping his shoulders.

“
Lacey, let me have you,”
he pleaded, my mouth trembling under his. “I need you, Lacey.
Please let me take you.”

There was so much emotion in his voice, an
intense need I never heard from him before. He wanted to have my
body for his own. Wanted permission to take what he needed.

From my lips, I heard a desperate yes
escape, and without warning, his fingers lodged deeper. So very
deep, and his thumb moved over my clit. I squealed, my body arching
as he worked me earnestly.

I grabbed his arms, digging my nails into
his flesh. He grunted, strumming me quicker and with more vigor.
The line between pain and pleasure was so thin it maddened, but I
knew what he was doing to me was what I wanted. I knew because I
found myself pushing my mound against him to be taken even more
roughly.

He grabbed my breast with his free hand.
Rolling my nipple between two fingers, he growled out words that
were quickly sending me over the edge. Things like, “That’s right,
baby. Come for me,” and, “Feel me. Feel me deep inside you.”

He pinched my clitoris, and I gushed around
him, shuddering like I had the first time he touched me intimately.
Like the first time he ever made me come.

I slumped in dependence when his fingers
left my body, still craving his touch long after my orgasm. He
lifted those very fingers to his mouth, and my lips parted as he
licked them gingerly, tasting my arousal. There was such heavy lust
in his eyes, my taste causing his dark irises to dilate.

He sought my lips again, his mouth latching
onto mine. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t breathe. I just tasted.
Him, me, and the combination of our taste. The hunger he had for me
reflected in the way he kissed. The way he touched.

He gripped my hip, guiding me to my stomach.
I didn’t hesitate, trusting him completely. My cheek touched the
pillow, and his hands feathered my sides. He pulled me back to him
by my hips, and my tight nipples brushed the bedding.

He had me in such a vulnerable position;
able to do whatever he wanted to me. I wasn’t nervous, though. I
had no reason to be with him.

His hands braced my bottom, kneading me
under a strong touch. He trailed light kisses up my spine, and his
warm chest touched my back, his hardness right up against me. He
made it to my ear, and his lips brushed the sensitive skin.

“Please,” he breathed, his voice sounding so
weak, so exposed. “Please let me take you.”

I backed up, pressing against him.
“Yes.”

He grabbed my hips and entered my sex in a
quick thrust. A startled cry escaped my throat, and I gripped the
bedding underneath my fingertips. He slid out only slightly before
slamming into me again, and I bit my lip, moaning deeply.

He groaned, moving his hands hotly down my
thighs. He dove into me once again, gathering my breasts in his
hands this time. After that, his motion was continuous, fluid and
driven by passion. I raised my hips, attempting to match every
thrust, every ounce of power behind me.

He picked up, and I knew he was close. I was
too, and I closed my eyes, waiting for the wonderful wave. I was on
the brink when he suddenly pulled out of me. I was turned over, and
he brought me to him by my thighs. I looked at his eyes, but he had
them closed. I wanted to see them.

I touched his cheeks, and they opened. His
eyes were glassed, laced with a vulnerability I’d never seen in
them before. He kept them trained on me while he entered me again.
I didn’t let them veer away. I kept focus on him as well, allowing
him to take my body places only he had a way of doing.

He slammed his hips into me again, and a
wave of electricity flowed deep into my core. My eyes rolled back,
and I burst around him, my sex clenching from his mass.

That was enough for him, and his hands dug
into my thighs as he came. His warmth flowed into me, and his body
shuddered above, his eyes half-mast.

He slumped, and I brought him into my arms.
He was still inside me, but I didn’t let him leave right away. I
wasn’t ready to let him go, and by the way he held me back, I knew
he wasn’t ready to leave either.

Chapter Nine

I woke up with the bright sun of Seoul
shining on my face through the drawn blinds. How late or how early
it was I didn’t know. I just knew I was alone, and Drake’s side of
the bed was cold. He’d been gone for a while.

I rolled to my side and moaned from the
soreness between my thighs. But it wasn’t a bad soreness, and the
fullness was missed.

I blinked up at the door when the man I was
just thinking about entered the room. He had a set of ear buds in;
his body covered in a thin a layer of sweat. By the tight-fitting
tank top and matching black athletic pants he wore, I gathered he
just got done working out. I wished he had woken me up. I would
have gone with him.

He noticed me awake and lowered his head
like he was trying to avoid eye contact. He pulled the buds out of
his ears. “Hey.”

The sound of his voice caused me to smile. I
pushed my messy curls out of my face. “Hey. You just get done
working out?”

He nodded, his hands restlessly playing with
his ear buds. “Yeah. I wanted to burn off some restless energy.
They have a nice gym here.”

He was acting so nervous and fidgety.
“That’s good.” I gnawed my lip, not knowing what else to say. There
was one thing I wanted though. “Why don’t you, um, come back to
bed? I wanna lay with you for a little while.”

Gazing at the floor, he looked unsure. In
the end, he said, “Okay. Just let me shower really quick.”

I was left alone. Staring up at the ceiling,
I waited for him. The bathroom door crept open moments later and
Drake came out. His rippled chest was bare and he was running a
towel through his dark locks. It mussed it up, leaving it in a sexy
spiky style that brought a smile to my lips.

He left his boxers on when he came back into
bed. He usually didn’t wear anything while in bed, so that let me
know he was closing himself off for some reason; letting me know
not to expect anything.

I frowned at that. I didn’t expect sex, but
it did sadden me that he was putting an intentional wall between
us. Despite that, he did open his arms to me, and I went right in.
His body held warmth from the shower and the distinct scent of him
lined his skin. Juniper with earthy notes.

I kissed his warm chest, loving his taste.
When I got to his neck, his arms tensed around me. I gazed up,
seeing the anxiety lacing his eyes.

I rubbed his arm. “What’s wrong? Did I do
something?”

He closed his eyes, and a curse fell from
his lips. “No, Lace. You did nothing wrong.”

“Then what is it?”

He looped his hand around my arm, running
his touch up and down. “I’m… I’m sorry I was so rough with you last
night.”

That
was what was bothering him? I couldn’t help the light laugh I
made.

He must not have understood I wasn’t
bothered by last night because he continued to apologize. “I didn’t
hurt you, did I? God, Lacey, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean—”