The Price of Staying

The pull on my knee made me turn slightly to face him.

I must have been drunk.

Even this close, my heart wasn’t racing as much as it should.

My body, which had been leaning against the sofa, tilted forward until I was resting against his chest.

The hand that had almost wrapped around him paused midair, as if I had suddenly come to my senses.

When I touched him hesitantly, I could feel the firm lines of his body even beneath the robe.

It felt solid—like there wasn’t a single weakness.

He tilted my chin up slightly, studying me.

“If you miss your sister, go visit her.”

“I’m fine.”

“You could see her on a weekday at least once.”

“I really am fine.”

“…Are weekdays still difficult?”

His lips brushed here and there across my face—under my eyes, beneath my jaw.

Warmth layered slowly over my skin.

I parted my lips unconsciously, then held back my tongue.

My heart was acting on its own again.

His hand slid past my chin and loosened the robe at my waist.

When it didn’t come undone easily, his gaze dropped.

“Why did you tie it so tight?”

“I just did.”

Apparently, it wasn’t as tight as I thought.

He untied it effortlessly and pulled the fabric apart.

As the robe opened, his face pressed against my left chest.

He bit into skin I had never even touched myself.

A light bite turned into a slow, deliberate pressure, and goosebumps rose across my body.

“…Ah—”

“Does it hurt?”

“Yes.”

“Only hurt?”

He laughed softly as he asked, his breath brushing against my skin.

The sensation made it even more ticklish.

Dizzy, I reached for his shoulder—then stopped, clenching my fist and lowering my hand.

I wasn’t sure if I was allowed to do that yet.

Instead, pretending otherwise, I lowered my head and pressed my lips lightly somewhere into his hair.

All I felt was smooth strands and the firmness beneath.

That was it.

Then, I felt his movements pause.

I picked up the wine glass I had set aside, avoiding his gaze, and drank.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

Only after staring at the empty bottom of the glass did I set it down.

As I leaned forward to place it carefully on the table so it wouldn’t tip, my vision swayed.

I must have hesitated, because an arm moved to steady me.

“Why are you drinking wine like that?”

“…Just felt like it.”

“I see.”

The next moment, I was pulled forward, collapsing into his arms.

He moved closer, lifting me by the waist and settling me onto his lap.

I froze in surprise.

No one had ever handled me like that—not my sister, not even my mother.

Leaning against his shoulder, my forehead resting there, I felt his hand slide along my thigh and inward.

My head felt hazy from the alcohol.

“Knees up. Lift your hips. That’s it.”

The robe was pushed up, and his hand pressed and kneaded slowly.

Then it moved lower, exploring.

A soft click of his tongue—

A finger brushed against my lips.

I lifted my head slightly and parted them.

The finger, dampened, moved downward again.

I rested my forehead against him and closed my eyes.

The room spun faintly.

As I leaned against the warmth of his neck, the motion grew deeper, slower—until my breathing turned uneven.

My body reacted without permission.

Then, guided by a firm hand at my back, I shifted.

As I lowered myself, something solid met me.

My shoulders stiffened.

I hesitated, unable to go further, but his hand on my thigh pressed me wider.

It felt impossible—until it wasn’t.

“…Ah.”

“Relax.”

When it finally settled, our eyes met.

I didn’t know what expression I had made.

The alcohol blurred everything.

His lips came close—but instead of mine, they brushed lightly against my chin.

That alone made my strength give out.

With nowhere else to lean, I rested against him again.

The unfamiliar fullness made me tense involuntarily.

I tried to endure it, but my body kept tightening.

Even then, the friction below felt strangely sharp.

So it’s all the way in…

How was that even possible?

The heat inside made me exhale slowly.

Then, a sudden sensation near my ear made me flinch—

And everything tightened.

“You’re doing well.”

His voice, close to my ear, echoed through me.

That was a relief.

“At least I’m doing it right…”

“Lift your hips.”

“…Yes.”

“Now sit back down.”

As I moved awkwardly, my face flushed.

I was the one moving.

As I lowered myself again, his hand guided my waist, adjusting the angle.

The heat inside deepened.

I wanted to move only slightly—just enough.

But when I shifted, the sensation sharpened.

Then suddenly, a force from below pushed upward.

I startled, curling forward.

After the movement stopped, his hand traced slowly down my back.

“Try again.”

“…No.”

“You seemed impatient. I won’t move—go ahead.”

I shook my head again.

I couldn’t.

The haze faded slightly, leaving behind embarrassment sharp enough to sting.

He licked near my eyes, then bit lightly at my cheekbone before meeting my gaze again.

His dark pupils flickered.

Then the rhythm returned—small, controlled movements from below.

My perspective tilted with each motion.

“…Ah—”

“Like this. Still not going to?”

“No—ah, no—”

“Alright. I’ll do it.”

The next moment, everything shifted sharply.

My body jolted, over and over, until my knees gave way and my vision went white.

Pleasure and pain filled me at once.

Struggling to breathe, I lifted my head with the support of his hand.

“…Ah…”

“Breathe.”

Only after everything settled did I realize we had moved to the bed.

Face down, with a pillow beneath my lower stomach, my hips were raised.

His hand pressed and kneaded again, making my body tighten and release.

It felt contradictory—uncomfortable, yet expectant.

My toes curled, then slackened.

I wanted to sleep like this.

Or maybe… once more would be fine.

As his hand moved lazily, his voice followed.

“By the way, Seogyeong.”

“…Yes.”

“You haven’t asked about overtime pay.”

My drifting thoughts snapped slightly into place.

Ah.

Right.

That’s what this was.

Even knowing that, I wanted to pretend it wasn’t—just for a little longer.

To stay in this feeling.

“To be honest… you don’t have to…”

“How could I not?”

His firm answer cut through my hesitation.

I really didn’t mind.

I just… didn’t mind.

“Should I help your sister’s business instead?”

“No—no, that’s…”

“Then?”

“…Give it to me at the end.”

“What end?”

“The real end.”

“…Alright. Keep track, then.”

Wanting to fall asleep just like that had been my own wish.

After a few more changes in position, everything finally ended.

There was one good thing about a large hotel room.

You could leave behind the mess of the bed and living room and sleep in another bedroom.

After washing up first, I drifted into a light sleep.

When the bathroom light briefly spilled into the room, I woke.

As I lifted myself slightly, he sat beside me.

The robe he wore carried layered scents—

Water.

The same toiletries I had used.

And something else, faint but familiar.

My thoughts faltered.

Before my head could drop, his hand gently held my chin.

His voice was low—fitting for the night.

“If you’re tired, sleep.”

“Yes.”

“I’m busy.”

“I know.”

“I’m staying under the excuse of checking the hotel package, but I’ll need to leave by morning.”

“Yes.”

“Take the car today.”

He always left first.

Watching it happen repeatedly, I found myself thinking—

Maybe even being someone like him wasn’t easy.

From what I had seen, his life was packed beyond imagination.

Even on weekends, there were events, appearances…

Or visits to the main house where the chairman stayed.

I didn’t want to linger and dwell on the end of things,

But I was always too exhausted to leave immediately.

As I nodded, our eyes met.

Up close, I could see the faint trace of fatigue on his face.

For a moment, I thought—

Maybe this time, our lips would meet.

It hadn’t happened before.

But this time felt different.

His gaze was unexpectedly gentle.

He moved closer.

Then, instead of kissing me,

He pressed his thumb lightly against my lower lip—then pulled away.

“Next week.”

“……”

“Rest. I’ll send someone for cleanup. You can leave without worrying about the hotel.”

As he let go of my chin and walked away, my eyes followed him.

Only afterward did I realize I should have stood and seen him off.

But it was too late.

At some point, things had already drifted far from what a secretary should be.

His footsteps faded, blending with another presence.

Even at this hour, the driver had arrived to do his job.

The sound faded, and silence settled again.

I moved my unsteady legs and stepped into the living room.

The lights were off, and even the night view beyond the glass walls felt dim.

Beside where the picnic basket had been, there was a shopping bag.

The driver always left things like this.

I didn’t want to accept them—but the pheromone neutralizer was hard to obtain.

Expensive, and regulated.

It wasn’t something I could easily get on my own.

I opened the bottle and sprayed it over my body.

The colorless, scentless liquid dampened my hair.

I loosened the robe and sprayed it across my skin.

Then I returned to the room—

and drifted into a shallow sleep.