The Bodyguard ♡ Blackpink

Chapter 61

⚠️ Lots of talk about sex/orgasm/sexual fantasies. Not intended for younger audiences. If that's not your thing, please skip ahead to the three little dots for the next part of this chapter.

Touch Me (Remix) - Victoria Monét feat. Kehlani
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(Rosé's POV)

I've never faked an orgasm before in my life. And yet, here I am, staring at the ceiling, unsatisfied and sexually frustrated while my boyfriend lies peacefully by my side fast asleep. It's not Ken's fault though. He knows what I like and that's kept me satisfied for months. Moreover, I usually make it clear when I haven't reached my climax yet and there are ways we (or most of the time — I) work to get around that.

Not this time. After all the frustration I've suffered as of late, I don't think there is any way to get around this other than to go through it. The problem is, I don't know what it is exactly that I have to get through to overcome this little dilemma of mine. Having sex tonight was supposed to relieve my stress, take my mind off of everything, and calm me down. But all it really did was annoy me even more and now I can't stop overthinking.

I take another glance at Ken sleeping on his stomach. Our shared blanket covers his naked lower half. When I look at his face, I see a bit of drool running from his open mouth onto the pillow. It's this one little detail that compels me to turn and get out of bed.

No matter where I go in Ken's spacious, luxurious, apartment — it feels so stuffy. A headache will start to form soon if I stay here any longer. I would go for the veranda to be outside no matter how chilly it is, but there isn't one here. In the end, I find myself in the guest room with a small window perched open for some fresh air. I sigh deeply and close my eyes. After a minute, I let myself inch down and sit on the dusty floor with my back against the wall.

Certain things come to mind as I stare absentmindedly in the dark: Y/N laying flat on her back in exhaustion after Felicia announced my victory today. The dirty look Y/N gave me before she walked out of the gym. Y/N's soft pretty eyes when she smiled at me and by contrast — the threatening rage in them when she became angry. Y/N taking off her shirt in the locker room where I witnessed a couple of tattoos on her muscular body that I'd never seen before, particularly one on the back of her lower neck of a butterfly's wings. She didn't even think twice about stripping in front of me. I remember the early days of our relationship when she used to be so shy about that.

I don't know where my thoughts began, but I realize when they start to make sense. This is when I think about the events that took place earlier today, one after the other. It's all because of Y/N.

I see her now, standing close to me in the locker room. There's a frown crossing her mouth. She's angry with me again, but something's holding her back from telling me why. Conflicting emotions rise on her face. I hate seeing that. Whatever it is, I want to draw it out, but my words alone won't help.

My frustration is building like a dam about to burst with gushing water. "Just tell me what it is! TELL ME!" I shout. Y/N doesn't answer. She shakes her head and covers her face with her hands. I call her name again, even gripping her shoulders and shaking them, but still no response. Then I shove her.

Y/N drops her hands as she stumbles backward, her eyes widening at me. I move forward and push her again — then again. I push again and again until her back is slammed against the wall of lockers behind and, standing between my held arms, she's helplessly trapped as I drive my knee to the heat between her legs. I'm kissing all over her mouth as my hands travel to caress her soft breasts, and then my lips find the weak spot on her neck below her ear that drives her wild. Desperate for the friction, she grinds on my bare thigh while she reaches inside my shorts to pleasure me too. I hear her hot moans in my ear turning into little mewls.