When the Clock Strikes|Pi Han Ul x Reader|

(S02) Chapter 24

I was falling. Completely.

Han Wool’s lips were swollen, his breath uneven as he hovered over me. His fingers traced slow patterns along my skin, as if memorizing every inch of me. But then, without a word, he pulled back, standing up from the bed.

I blinked, chest rising and falling with every labored breath. “What…” My voice was hoarse, my body still trembling. “Are you tired?”

He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he walked over to the bedside drawer, pulling it open. His back was to me, but I saw the way his shoulders rose and fell as if steadying himself.

My heart pounded in confusion, in anticipation.

When he turned around, his gaze found mine instantly. His eyes were dark, filled with something intense and unreadable. In his hand, he held something small.

Realization hit me like a wave.

A deep flush spread across my face as he walked back toward me. I swallowed, suddenly aware of everything—the way the cool air brushed against my heated skin, the way my fingers curled into the sheets beneath me.

He slowly started to unbutton his pants as he finally throwing it away.

He climbed onto the bed, his weight sinking into the mattress as he positioned himself between my legs. His hands found my thighs, warm and firm, spreading them gently. My breath hitched.

Han Wool’s gaze never wavered as he tore open the packet, his hands steady yet careful. He exhaled softly, the warmth of his breath fanning over my skin as he shifted closer. My heart pounded against my ribs, my fingers gripping the sheets beneath me as I watched him.

His fingers traced slow, soothing circles over my thighs, his touch deliberate—patient, despite the storm brewing in his eyes. He moved between my legs, his body hovering over mine, his heat seeping into me like fire.

Han Wool dipped his head, pressing a kiss against my forehead first—soft, reverent—before trailing lower, brushing his lips along my cheek, my jaw, my lips. He kissed me slowly, deeply, his tongue slipping against mine in a way that made me melt into the mattress.

“Are you really sure?” he murmured against my lips, his voice low, hoarse, edged with restraint. His forehead pressed against mine, his fingers lacing through mine above my head. “Tell me now, Ye Na, because once I start, I might not be able to stop.”

I swallowed thickly, my body alight with anticipation, with need, with something so overwhelming I could barely think straight. My hands squeezed his. “Please,” I whispered, my voice barely audible, but I knew he heard me. I could feel the way his body tensed, the way his breath hitched.

For a moment, he just stared at me—his eyes dark, his expression unreadable. Then, he kissed me again, deeper this time, his hands gripping my thighs, spreading me wider beneath him.

His movements were careful, precise, filled with an aching tenderness that made my chest tighten. He was warm, encompassing, his touch sending fire through every inch of my skin. And when he finally moved, when our bodies finally connected, I felt it—this unspoken understanding, this quiet devotion, this love that neither of us had dared to say out loud.

I gasped, my fingers clutching onto his shoulders, his arms, anything I could hold onto as he moved slowly, almost reverently, as if he wanted to memorize every moment, every feeling. His lips never left mine for too long, his forehead pressing against mine, our breaths mingling, hearts pounding in sync.

Han Wool's tightened his grip on my waist, anchoring me beneath him.

"If it’s too much," he murmured, his lips ghosting over my cheek, "tell me. I’ll stop. Please don’t endure it if you can’t handle it."

His voice was hoarse, laced with restraint, but there was something else there too—concern, devotion, an aching tenderness that made my chest tighten.

I swallowed hard, my fingers digging into the muscles of his back. “I’m okay,” I whispered, my voice breathless, barely audible between the waves of sensation washing over me. “Don’t stop.”

His jaw clenched, his eyes darkening with something unspoken. Then, he kissed me—deep, slow, consuming—before trailing his lips down my jaw, my neck. I gasped as his teeth scraped lightly against my skin, the mix of pleasure and warmth sending shivers down my spine.

My body arched beneath him, every nerve igniting, every inch of me attuned to him. My hands traced his shoulders, his arms, the firm lines of his body pressing into mine. My nails bit into his skin when the pleasure became too much, and he groaned against my throat, his grip on my hips tightening.

“Ye Na,” he rasped, his voice thick, almost strained. “You feel… so perfect.” He kissed along my collarbone, down to the hollow of my throat, his lips lingering against my pulse. He held me close, as if afraid I’d disappear if he let go.

A moan escaped my lips before I could stop it, my mouth falling open, my breath uneven.

I couldn’t speak. My lips parted, but no sound came out—only breathless, silent pleas as my head fell back against the pillows, my chest rising and falling rapidly.

A deep groan rumbled from his throat as he pressed his forehead against mine, his fingers lacing through mine, pinning my hands above me. “Can you say my name?,” he murmured, his lips brushing against my temple.

I gasped, my nails scraping down his back as I felt the warmth coil tighter, my body trembling under his.

“I…” I tried to speak, but my voice failed me.

He chuckled softly, his breath uneven. “Can’t even talk?” He kissed the corner of my mouth, then my jaw, his lips ghosting down my neck. “Am I making you feel that good?”

I nodded, unable to form words. My body answered for me, the way I clung to him, the way my breaths came in shallow gasps.

Han Wool’s hand trailed down my side, his touch slow, lingering. “You’re incredible,” he murmured against my skin, his voice reverent. “Everything about you—”

I felt the heat building, the intensity reaching its peak, my body tightening around him. A strangled moan left my lips as I shuddered, my head tilting back against the pillows, my body surrendering completely.

Han Wool groaned as he buried his face against my shoulder, his grip on me tightening as he followed, his breath hot against my skin.

For a moment, there was only silence—our hearts pounding in sync, our breathing uneven.

Then, Han Wool let out a shaky laugh, brushing a damp strand of hair from my face. “That was…”

I exhaled deeply, still trying to catch my breath. “Yeah.”

He grinned, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead. “I think I might need a minute before I can move.”

I laughed breathlessly, wrapping my arms around him, my heart still racing. “You and me both.”

He tightened his hold on me, tucking me against his chest. “Stay like this for a while?”

I nodded against his skin, closing my eyes as I let the warmth of him surround me.

In that moment, nothing else existed—just us.