Sarang Iyagi

A Burning Winter Night

WARNING: MATURE CONTENT AHEAD. PLEASE SKIP IF YOU FEEL UNCOMFORTABLE. YOU'VE BEEN WARNED.

They said a man's highest form of pleasure could only be found in a woman's body.

When Sungjae first read that sentence in one of the books the head gisaeng lady gave him, he had raised his eyebrows, barely believing the exaggeration.

That night though, he had to admit the book's author was indeed telling the truth.

Everything he knew about an intimate physical contact with women was learnt from those books, and seeing the practice only once.

He didn't understand why some men could be so addicted with it, to the point that they'd lose their mind and focus.

Of course, until the same calamity fell on him, he would never understand it.

It was not exactly a calamity, though. Maybe it was bound to happen, that consuming, irrational physical pull toward his wife.

Once he admitted that she was beautiful, he paid more attention to her character. When he realized he adored her character, it started to build higher and higher, until he had to berate himself for staring at her a few seconds too long every-single-time.

It's hilarious how his whole house seemed to know that he was so smitten with Sooyoung, except the girl herself. His mother, sister and brother-in law (when they come to visit, which was often), would always look at him with a mix of amusement and disbelief, as if their eyes were saying, "Go get her, you stupid lad!"

His footman, Baekhyun, would raise his eyebrows whenever he saw, for the umpteenth time, how he stared at Sooyoung, when she's busy studying or writing letters, as if the servant wanted to say, "Just man up and get it over with!"

And then there's Taeyeon, of course. His wife's personal maid who cared for her as if she was her own daughter or sister. Whenever he realized Taeyeon was looking at him in that reprimanding way of hers, he'd look away from Sooyoung.

The need, the craving and the longing to touch her escalated into oblivion when he started to help her wore her herbal cream and bandage the wound on her thigh, everyday, for three weeks.

The most frustrating of it all was how Sooyoung didn't even realize how much he wanted her.

He told himself to be patient, that she needed more time to be comfortable with him before he could even try to move to a more intimate level with her.

That night, however, with the way she looked so awed at him while he sang, he lost his patience to the cold wind of winter.

He felt that if she still pushed him away, he'd die.

He was immensely relieved to see her offering her jeogori's ribbon at him. So sweet, so typically Sooyoung. Wordless, but exactly what he needed.

He felt as if the entire world went silent as his hand untied the ribbon, and his hands slipped under her jeogori, reaching her shoulders, and pushing the layer off, revealing her milky white shoulders and arms.

As if in a dream, his hands travelled around, feeling her shoulders, then her arms, brushing her naked elbows with his fingertips, then down onto her hands. His hands then reached for her face, and he held her there, locking eyes with her, breathing her exhales and seeing that in her eyes, he only saw himself.

His kiss was possessive, claiming and defeating her doubts. His hands were slow, fingers deep in her hair, another one at her back, pulling her body closer to him.

When his lips travelled down to her throat then neck, it was to taste her, as his tongue glided down and around, her body trembling and her breath caught.