Touch Therapy: Where Hands Go, Bodies Beg-Chapter 229: I’ve Got You

The world outside his windows could have burned and Ji-hye wouldn’t have noticed. The city was nothing but distant neon and silence, all the pressure and poison of the last weeks falling away, just for tonight, just for this room. She was raw—skinless, trembling, cracked open after pouring herself out in his arms—and she wanted to fill herself with something new, something wild, something that would drown out every echo of shame and leave her gasping, alive, human.

She felt it in the way Joon-ho’s hands lingered at her jaw, thumbs stroking her cheeks after the last of her tears dried. In the silence, their breaths tangled. He leaned in, searching her face, giving her space to run or fall. She didn’t hesitate. She caught his mouth with hers, urgent, hungry, her fingers sliding into his hair and yanking him closer, harder, needing to taste, to bite, to bruise and be bruised.

Joon-ho groaned, the sound vibrating through his chest, his hands moving from her face to her shoulders, down her back, gripping, pulling her into his lap. His kiss was messy, rough, his tongue demanding—she met it with teeth, nipping at his lower lip until he gasped, hands digging into the small of her back. The shock of it set off something reckless in her. She wanted to be ruined, wanted to be reminded that she could still want, still burn, still be the one to make someone else lose control.

She broke the kiss, tugging at his shirt, fumbling with buttons, shoving it off his shoulders. He caught her wrists, pinned them above her head, forcing her to look him in the eye.

"You sure?" he asked, voice low, dangerous.

She nodded, breath ragged. "Don’t make me wait. I want you to fuck me, Joon-ho. I want you to make me forget everything. Make me scream."

His eyes went dark, feral, lips curling in a half-smile. "Careful what you wish for."

He released her wrists, letting her grab at his clothes. She was frantic, yanking his undershirt over his head, scratching at his skin, dragging her nails down his chest and stomach. She wanted marks—proof that she was here, that he was hers, that no one else mattered.

He shoved her back on the sofa, reaching for the waistband of her sweatpants. She lifted her hips, helping him strip them down, panties torn off with them. His fingers slid between her thighs, finding her already wet, slick with need.

"Fuck," he breathed, teasing her entrance, letting one thick finger slide in, slow and deep.

Ji-hye moaned, head thrown back, hips bucking against his hand. "More. Don’t tease."

He gave her what she wanted—another finger, then a third, pumping in and out, thumb pressing tight circles against her clit. She writhed, moaning loud and unashamed, every touch sending sparks through nerves stretched raw. She clutched at his shoulders, nails digging in, her cries echoing off the walls.

He pulled his hand free, slick and shining, and smeared her wetness up her stomach, tracing a line to her breast. He leaned down, took her nipple in his mouth, sucked hard, then bit, just enough to make her gasp, then groan. Her legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer, desperate.

Joon-ho stood, muscles tense, and hauled her up. She was half-draped around him, kissing his neck, biting his jaw. He carried her to the bedroom, tossing her onto the bed. She sprawled there, hair a wild halo, lips swollen, eyes blown wide with lust. He shed his pants and boxers in one motion, cock heavy and flushed, standing out against his abs. Her eyes fixed on him, hungry.

He climbed over her, hands in her hair, yanking her head back, baring her throat. He kissed her there, open-mouthed, biting, sucking, marking her as his. She moaned, thighs falling open, one leg hooked around his hip.

"Say it," he growled, rubbing his cock against her slit, sliding through her wetness but not pushing in.

"Please," she begged, voice hoarse. "I want you to ruin me. I want it rough. I want to feel you for days."

He didn’t hesitate. He slammed into her, burying himself deep, one hard, brutal thrust that knocked the air out of her lungs and made her cry out—half pain, half relief, all hunger.

He fucked her hard—no mercy, no patience, just the relentless rhythm of bodies colliding, flesh slapping, sweat slick on skin. She clawed at his back, raked her nails down his arms, wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down so their mouths met between broken gasps and filthy words.

He pinned her wrists above her head, fucking her into the mattress, hips snapping, each thrust driving her higher. She bit his shoulder, leaving marks, her voice ragged, begging him not to stop, not to slow down.

He flipped her over, pulled her hips up, and drove into her from behind, one hand twisted in her hair, the other gripping her waist so tight she knew she’d bruise. She arched her back, pushing against him, meeting every thrust, moaning louder, letting herself fall apart.

The bed creaked, the headboard slammed against the wall. Sweat dripped from his body onto hers, and she reveled in the roughness, the loss of control, the feeling of being wanted so fiercely it hurt.

He leaned over her, voice rough in her ear. "You love this, don’t you? You love being fucked like this. Say it."

She gasped, barely able to form words between moans. "Yes. I love it. I love it—I need it. Don’t you dare stop."

He let go of her hair, pressed her face into the sheets, and pounded into her, relentless, driving her to the edge. Her hands fisted in the blankets, her body shuddered, and she came hard, screaming, her whole body wracked with pleasure and pain. 𝚏𝕣𝕖𝚎𝚠𝚎𝚋𝚗𝐨𝐯𝕖𝕝.𝕔𝐨𝕞

He didn’t slow. He pulled her back up, spun her onto her back, and entered her again, one leg thrown over his shoulder. He watched her face, drinking in every gasp, every twitch, every time her eyes rolled back with another wave of sensation.

She pulled him down, kissing him messy, their teeth clashing, tongues fighting. She sucked his lower lip, bit it, moaned his name over and over, desperate for more.

He moved her legs up, folding her in half, pinning her wrists beside her head. His cock slammed deep, filling her, stretching her wide. She sobbed, half-laughing, half-crying, begging him to finish, to cum inside her, to ruin her for anyone else.

He grunted, thrusts growing ragged. She felt him pulse inside her, heat flooding her, and the sound she made was almost a sob—satisfaction, relief, hunger all in one.

For a long moment, they stayed tangled, sweat-slicked, bodies heaving. Her skin burned everywhere he’d touched, bitten, gripped. The room smelled like sex and salt and the wild release of everything she’d held in for too long.

Joon-ho eased out of her, rolling onto his back, pulling her with him so she lay draped over his chest. She was boneless, spent, trembling in the aftermath. His hands roamed her back, soothing the stinging red marks, pressing kisses to her temple, her hair, her jaw.

He whispered her name, soft and reverent, letting her come down, letting her heartbeat slow. She felt held, anchored, safer than she had in months.

After a while, when her breath came easier and the tremors faded, he slid out from under her, moving quietly to the bathroom. She heard water running, the clink of bottles, and then he returned with a warm, damp towel. He wiped the sweat and stickiness from her skin, gentle now, every touch a question, an apology, a promise.

She smiled, lazy, utterly undone. "You trying to spoil me?"

He kissed her shoulder. "Not trying. Succeeding."

He found the bottle of massage oil on the nightstand, poured a small pool into his palm, rubbed his hands together to warm it. "Turn over for me," he said, voice low, full of affection.

She did, rolling onto her belly, stretching her arms out, pressing her cheek to the cool pillow. She felt exposed, open, every muscle singing with aftershock and satisfaction.

Joon-ho climbed over her, straddling her thighs, hands moving to her shoulders. He started slow, working the oil into her skin, kneading at the tight knots beneath her shoulder blades. His touch was nothing like before—now it was careful, loving, every pass smoothing out the ache, the tension, the reminders of battle.

He worked his way down her back, thumbs circling, knuckles digging just enough to make her sigh. She melted under him, eyes fluttering shut, letting herself be cared for.

He moved lower, massaging her hips, her ass, her thighs, lingering over the bruises he’d left—kissing them, murmuring praise. "You’re so strong. So fucking beautiful." His hands were magic, easing every ache, reminding her of every way she’d been taken and every way she’d survived.

He worked the knots from her calves, her feet, the arches he knew always ached after long days on the court. She moaned again, this time softer, pleasure melting into relaxation.

"You don’t have to be strong right now," he whispered, pressing his lips to the back of her neck. "Just let go."

She sighed, sinking deeper, letting the tension bleed away with every stroke. The mess of sex faded into the sweetness of being held, cherished, mended.

He finished with long, slow strokes up her back, over her shoulders, and finally curled up beside her, gathering her into his arms. She twisted to face him, kissing his jaw, letting her fingertips trace his chest, his ribs, the fading marks she’d left behind.

She tucked her head under his chin, listening to his heartbeat, feeling his breath against her hair.

They drifted there, a tangle of bare limbs and sated bodies, not speaking, letting the quiet fill them up. The world outside was still broken, still loud and ugly, but here, in this room, it was just sweat and heat and the slow, deliberate rebuilding of trust.

Ji-hye felt herself drifting, not into sleep, but into something softer—something almost like hope. She knew tomorrow would come, with all its battles and doubts. But for tonight, there was only this: the ache in her muscles, the weight of his arms, the quiet certainty that she wasn’t alone.

He pressed a kiss to her temple, voice thick with promise. "I’ve got you."

She believed him. She let herself believe, just for tonight.

And as the city slept below, Ji-hye finally let herself rest.