A Night for Transgressions

"Go ahead and try me."

Jeong Taeeul had been testing his patience all night. Her blatant disregard for the doctor's orders had grated at him. But then, what did he expect really? She disregarded his rules, and he was the King.

So when she playfully stretched out her neck like that, daring him to behead her as he so often threatened, he had had enough.

He pounced and kissed her on the tender part of her neck where his blade would have met with the least resistance. He had only meant to tease her. Truly.

But when his lips touched the delicate skin on her neck, right where her pulse pounded softly, warm, and steady, it was his resistance that broke. His blood roared, hot and ready. Unbidden, his lips pressed against her neck a little harder than he had meant to and drew some of her soft, pliant skin into his mouth for half a heartbeat before he forced himself to let go of her throat.

He drew back to look at her, catching the way she blinked rapidly to regain focus.

"Hey, that's—"

But he didn't want her to be focused. He wanted her to be so out of control that she wouldn't be able to string a single sentence together. So he kissed her again. He wanted to kiss her senseless, until she could only utter the vowels in the English alphabet in between gasps and breaths. But first, he needed her to be quiet.

His lips captured her bottom lip, plump and pink. He gave it a little nip to see what she would say next.

But all she could do was stare back at him, eyes wide open and swirling with the same kind of storm that raged outside their window. His Lieutenant was no shrinking flower and it thrilled him that she could stare back so calmly at him, even if the pulse he could see on the base of her throat was hammering wildly beneath her skin. He wanted to bite her there, like the way he nipped at her lips.

His eyes moved up to her lips, cherry red now. Open, with hot little breaths fanning over his own heated lips. Heavens above, even her breath was sweet. If he could devour her breath he would.

"I'm sure I told you," he said, his voice low and deep with pent up hunger, "that you could be beheaded for addressing me with hey," he continued, his eyes caressing her treasonous lips that have called him all manners of indignity, "this or that."

She had the grace to look contrite. She cleared her throat nervously and swallowed whatever excuse she had thought of for her behavior. She started fiddling with her hands and began to draw back from him.

"Stop being ridicu—"

Before she could kick him out of the room, before she could tell him to stop, and he swore he would when she eventually told him to, he decided to steal one more, one last, kiss.

He lunged forward, plunged his right hand into her soft wavy hair to cradle her head as his lips caught hers. He trapped her bottom lip between his lips, sucked it a little into his mouth and teased it with the tip of his tongue. He kissed her upper lip in the same way, kissed her like that again and again until her lips were so swollen and he could feel her breath hitching into his mouth, trying to catch a breath.

He didn't like that at all. He wanted her air to come from his mouth, wanted her to need him like he needed her.

So he pushed his tongue into her small mouth and breathed her in. He kept his hand at the back of her head gentle enough should she want to pull away but, dear god, he prayed she wouldn't. He sought out her tongue inside her mouth, found the tip of it and circled around before sliding on top of it, and deeper into her mouth.