A Door That Closes Slowly

I suddenly thought of something that didn’t fit this moment at all.

A door that opens only for a few seconds, like the subway doors during the morning commute.

A chance just as brief, and if it passed by, it would simply pass by.

I could always take the next train.

It wouldn’t make a big difference in my life.

It would just continue on calmly like that.

Wouldn’t it.

Am I about to get fired now.

I don’t want to get fired yet.

At the moment when the door of opportunity was closing slowly, like blinking eyelids, I nodded just as I had once accepted the business card the executive director handed me.

I acted before I could even process it, and by the time I came to my senses, I had already answered.

My own voice, about to do something insane, sounded unfamiliar.

“How… should I proceed?”

“Do you have experience with an alpha?”

“No.”

“You washed up, right?”

“…Yes.”

“Then let’s try it.”

The moment I took a step forward, my pace quickened.

As I was pulled along by the arm, my heart pounded uncontrollably.

From the living room to the bedroom.

From the bedroom to the bed.

I retraced the path I had just taken.

I was pushed straight onto the bed.

As I awkwardly lay down, he loosened his shirt and climbed on top of me.

My legs were pinned, and in an overwhelmingly intimate position, he pressed down over me.

The weight of his body pushed me deeper into the mattress.

My heart pounded so hard it felt like it might burst.

I wanted to at least pretend to be composed, but it was impossible.

While staring at the white ceiling, I felt his hands move, parting my clothes and reaching my waist before undoing the buckle of my pants.

Not knowing where to place my hands, I gripped the bed with one and barely managed to rest the other on his shoulder.

His hot hand wandered along my inner thigh before brushing over me directly.

His fingers pressed beneath, then slid further down.

When I felt his fingers tap lightly against a certain place, I focused on breathing deliberately.

My thighs were pinned under his weight, and while he paid no attention to me, his long fingers kept moving in the narrow space between my legs, as if that alone was his purpose.

When he brushed his cheek against my neck and pulled away, my own body temperature had risen just as much.

Even though his breath was hot against my face, he spoke slowly.

“You’re not wet.”

“…What?”

“Try breathing.”

He calmly guided my breathing.

Inhale deeply, exhale slowly.

But no matter how many times I repeated it, my breathing only became more uneven.

His expression, dimly lit in the darkness, watched me with a strange curiosity.

“It’s interesting that you don’t react even when I touch you.”

“Ah…”

What was I supposed to say to that.

As I hesitated, our lips brushed slightly.

The heat between us made my chest tighten.

His face was too close.

Far too close.

He whispered.

“I can’t go further unless you’re ready. What should we do?”

“…Is there something like gel?”

“Gel? I wonder.”

It wasn’t like I was completely ignorant.

I knew what would be needed if I were to accept him.

But I had never imagined myself saying something like that in front of him.

Tilting his head slightly, he turned and searched the drawer beside the bed.

The soft sound of it opening and closing repeated several times, and the bed shifted slightly.

When he sat between my spread legs again, he held a long container in his hand.

Inside the semi-transparent plastic was a pinkish gel.

He tore open the packaging with his teeth and squeezed a generous amount into his palm.

A soft, hollow sound followed.

His long fingers were quickly coated.

Even under the dim orange light, the texture was clearly visible, and I wanted to disappear.

Then those fingers moved, spreading it over me.

I didn’t know what expression to make.

My throat felt dry as I swallowed repeatedly.

Just as his fingers were about to press further, I spoke.

“I… I’ll do it.”

“Do what?”

“I’ll… handle it myself first.”

“Ah.”

As if he finally understood, he gently traced over the place he had been about to touch.

That alone made my lower body tense.

“Handle it yourself?”

“Yes. I’ll do it, and then…”

“Alright. But do you know how?”

The hand gripping the sheet was taken.

His fingers interlocked with mine, pulling me up into a half-seated position.

I mean… I wasn’t completely clueless.

I just couldn’t bear the thought of him doing it directly.

As I swallowed nervously, he turned my palm upward.

Then poured the gel into it until it overflowed.

It dripped down, coating me as it slid lower.

The cold sensation made me twist slightly, but his grip tightened.

Then he gestured.

“Go on.”

“…Could you not watch?”

“You think I won’t see it anyway?”

That was true, but…

Saying I’d go somewhere else wasn’t an option.

With trembling fingers, I reached down and slowly pressed inward.

Damn it.

Even doing it myself felt strange.

It wasn’t even clear what I was feeling beyond discomfort.

His gaze was so intense it felt like it stung my skin.

My hips were pulled closer as my legs were pushed wider.

I barely managed to move my finger, but it trembled.

I didn’t want him to notice.

But before I could continue, he caught my hand and pulled it away.

His gaze was sharp—like the time he had confronted a team leader caught selling confidential designs.

Yet the way he moved my hand aside and rested it gently on my stomach was surprisingly soft.

His voice followed.

“Secretary Yoon. I’ll do it today.”

“…Yes.”

“You can try it yourself next time. Alright?”

A question caught in my throat.

Would there even be a next time.

But there were more immediate concerns.

His fingers, coated again, moved slowly.

My body reacted on its own, and I bit my lip.

The sensation was overwhelming.

His fingers moved deeper, then withdrew quickly.

Again.

And again.

The sounds grew wetter each time.

So this is what it meant.

My hips ached, and I tried to close my legs, but couldn’t.

“Stay still.”

His hand pressed lightly against my stomach as he continued.

I tried not to react, staring at the ceiling, but my body betrayed me.

Heat rose all the way to my face.

I stared upward until my eyes hurt, then closed them.

Without sight, every sound and sensation became sharper.

His fingers moved relentlessly, stretching, adjusting.

The gel, once cold, warmed against my skin.

I tried to move again, but was stopped.

It already felt overwhelming.

When his hand finally withdrew, I slowly opened my eyes.

The sound of metal made me glance downward.

His belt had been undone and tossed aside.

Then I saw him—and forgot to breathe.

I had known he was tall, strong.

But this…

It was far beyond what I expected.

The sheer size, the way it looked—it was almost shocking.

My thoughts stalled.

Without realizing it, I swallowed.

He didn’t misinterpret my reaction.

Instead, he leaned closer, pressing against me, his hand holding my face steady.

“…Is it because you’re an alpha?”

At that, he smiled slightly.

“I’ve never thought about it.”

His face moved closer, close enough to count his lashes.

His breath was hot.

The pressure increased.

I felt myself being pushed beyond what I thought possible.

Even he seemed to tense slightly.

Still, he smiled.

I clenched my jaw as the pressure deepened, filling me.

My body stretched, strained.

His hand moved, steadying me, his thumb brushing beneath my eye.

Then his tongue followed, slow and warm.

“Why that expression?”

“It… hurts…”

“Does it?”

And I couldn’t even believe this was happening.

As my body twisted, the pressure followed.

The friction, the weight, everything blurred together.

The sensation was too deep, too much.

And yet—

Even in that moment, what I resented most

was that I couldn’t fully accept it.