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Chapter 25
Han-gyeol sat down and stared at the pen Somang had left behind. It was the pen with a squirrel head at the top—the very one Han-gyeol had given her as a present ten years ago.
The printing on the body had faded over time, and the squirrel head, worn from constant use, had become glossy.
“She says she doesn’t like me? Yeah, right.”
Her lips twitching whenever their eyes met, the slight flare of her nose, her cheeks always flushed coral red—Somang was still exactly the same as before.
His worries that she might have stopped liking him were laughable; her heart had always, unfailingly, been directed toward him, someone who had nothing special to offer.
That pure, unwavering affection was beautiful—too precious.
So precious that he didn’t dare respond lightly.
Being treated like an outsider in his own home, people whispering, Jong-min calling him a mutt—he could endure all of that.
But in front of Somang, he wanted to show her the version of “perfect Yoo Han-gyeol” that she loved.
Back when he was worthless, back when he hated himself so much it spread like a virus, she was the one who liked him—because of her, he learned to value himself.
That is why Somang’s love was so precious, so dear to him.
She was sunlight—bright and gentle—too dazzling to touch carelessly, for fear of losing it.
If she stepped back after realizing his greedy desire… he would chase her, over and over, just to prove himself.
Just like she had never stopped liking him.
His thumb brushed against the little squirrel, and without realizing it, he smiled softly, thinking of her small head.
—Attention from the Systems Maintenance Department. A fire drill and inspection will begin at 3 PM today. Employees must stop working and evacuate to the designated safety zones inside the company.
As soon as the announcement ended, a clear alarm rang out.
WEEEEHH—
Employees began leaving their desks one by one to evacuate.
Han-gyeol was just about to follow the repeated announcements toward the shelter when—
“Be quiet and follow me.”
A small, soft hand grabbed his wrist—small enough that it couldn’t even wrap fully around it—and pulled.
Somang, who had clearly been waiting for the opportunity, dragged Han-gyeol into the emergency stairwell.
Thud.
The thick fire door closed behind them, bringing with it a rush of cool cement smell.
After confirming no one else was around, Somang threw his wrist aside.
Outside, the fire shutters rattled as they came down, and the alarm blared overhead.
“What exactly did you think you were doing in the team leader’s office? Don’t you know you can’t abuse your authority? Personal and professional matters should be separate.”
Even as her eyes swept over him from head to toe with a rebellious glare, he didn’t so much as frown.
Perfectly buttoned shirt, immaculate tie, silver cufflinks gleaming at his wrist—Han-gyeol was exactly as flawless as always.
Everyone loved him. Everyone admired him.
A man with a perfect appearance and a flawless personality.
Yoo Han-gyeol.
Ever since he joined the company, it was natural—automatic—that people constantly talked about him.
And just as naturally, Somang had never been able to forget him.
“Are you planning to keep putting me in difficult situations at work like this?”
“I should be the one asking you. Don’t you think this is dangerous?”
He leaned down slightly—his tall frame pressing forward—closing in on her.
“In a closed space.”
His top button came undone.
“With just the two of us.”
The tip of his polished dress shoe nearly touched the toe of her sneaker. The sensation that traveled upward from her feet made her nerves stand on edge.
“Are you sure you’re okay with that?”
“T-Team leader, what are you doing—”
“This kind of situation is much harder for me, Somang.”
His jet-black eyes drifted past her eyes, down to her nose, and settled quietly on her lips.
The air thickened instantly, binding the two of them together.
“Somang.”
“Yes, team leader.”
“Are you going to call me that even when it’s just the two of us?”
“Yes. We’re at the compa—”
Mmpph!
He cut off the answer he didn’t want to hear—with his lips.
She should have stepped back, but the hard wall pressing against the back of her sneaker told her there was nowhere to run.
A short kiss, yet it squeezed her throat tight.
Somang tried twisting her head away, not knowing what to do, but he followed her movement and murmured softly against her prettily curved lips:
“You’re already avoiding me before we’ve even started?”
“W-What, were you planning to kiss me here?”
Shocked, she tried covering her mouth with her hand, but trapped in his arms, she couldn’t move an inch.
“What else would I do? Like I said—I’m trying my best to seduce you.”
A shiver skimmed across her skin.
“And you just have to enjoy it… and fall apart.”
Somang finally managed to push at his chest.
Thud.
She shoved hard enough to make a sound, yet his shoe didn’t move even a centimeter from her toe.
His large hand brushed her soft cheek, tracing it slowly.
“Whether it’s a kiss… or something else… do you think just a little peck is enough to make you fall for me?”
He loosened his tie for easier movement, and through the open shirt, the hollow of his collarbone came into view.
The desire burning in his dark eyes made it clear what he wanted next.
Chup.
Their mingled breaths turned into one, and their soft lips met.
When his slightly parted lips dragged hers upward, the cold air of the stairwell seemed to ignite.
Han-gyeol kissed her far more deeply than he ever had at home.
The more he deepened it, the more she shook her head in resistance—though that only inflamed him further. She could feel the heat gathering below where their bodies pressed.
She felt like she was going to burn up before the building did.
Then, as if dissatisfied, he pulled back just a little.
“Deputy Baek Somang, open your mouth.”
With those sticky words, he pressed her fully against the wall.
“A simple kiss isn’t enough, right?”
The hand that had been caressing her cheek slowly moved down and lifted her chin.
Her lips parted like a baby bird waiting to be fed.
By the time she realized it, something hot had entered her mouth, entwined with hers—tangling tightly.
Her unguarded mouth was thoroughly explored.
Sweetness melted her tension, and a small moan escaped through her teeth.
“Hngh—!”
The more impatient the kiss became, the shorter his breaths grew, and the touches near her shoulder strap turned more explicit.
Even as her lungs screamed for air, his tongue continued its sticky, rough invasion.
At some point, his hot hand had moved from her shoulder down to her waist. Each time he touched her, her waist jerked like a spring.
“Hah… haa…”
Somang twisted her head away, gasping for air.
Han-gyeol didn’t waste even that stolen breath—he pushed a firm thigh between hers and pressed their bodies closer.
With their lips touching again and the swollen pressure at his center nudging against her, her stomach fluttered.
The kiss, which he led completely, pushed and pulled her at his will.
A red warning light flashed in her mind.
“Mm… w-wait! Hold on…”
Somang shook her head, trying to push him away, but he only sucked harder on her lips, firmly refusing to let go.
His arm tightened around her waist.
Their lips slid together with wet, sticky sounds, and his tongue mercilessly teased every tender corner of her mouth.
Overwhelmed by the storm of kisses, Somang finally bit down on the soft muscle of his tongue.
“Kuk.”
He let out a low groan, one eye squeezing shut at the sharp pain.
Only then did he pull back, resting his forehead on her shoulder with a crooked, amused smile.
“Where’d you learn to be that naughty?”
She couldn’t tell if the heat on her neck came from his breath or her own skin.
“Or was kissing the best you could do?”
His eyes were half folded in a lazy, satisfied stare.
Even though his earlier movements seemed anything but lazy, she couldn’t think straight under the relentless force he had pushed into her mouth.
“I-It’s not like that.”
“Then please reconsider our marriage—positively.”
He smiled, placing one hand on her waist and slowly sliding it up along her curves.
At some point, his palm had moved behind her back, circling near the clasp of her bra.
