Forbidden Desire

Jinhee stared at me dumbfounded, her gaze fixed upon me with a mixture of shock and disbelief. Without hesitation, I strode to the dining room door and swiftly locked it, ensuring our privacy for what was to unfold. Turning back to the blonde woman, I began the methodical task of removing her clothing, revealing the crimson lingerie beneath. Despite her initial surprise, a glint of anticipation flickered in her eyes, fueled by the illusion of control she harbored. In her mind, she envisioned herself as the orchestrator of our encounter, perhaps even entertaining thoughts of a future together. But such fantasies were far from my intentions; I knew all too well that such a fate was never to be hers.

Guiding her to her knees before me, I deftly lowered my pants, granting her access to me. As she eagerly took me into her mouth, I felt her enthusiasm mingled with surprise, her moans echoing in the confined space. Meanwhile, Jinhee’s presence loomed over us, a silent observer to the spectacle unfolding before her. Though she endeavored to maintain composure, the turmoil within her was palpable, a tempest of emotions roiling beneath the surface.

Completing the blonde’s disrobing, I positioned her upon the table, the anticipation of our coupling evident in her fervent cries. With a practiced ease, I proceeded without preamble, the urgency of our union manifesting in the force of my thrusts. The table trembled beneath us, a testament to the intensity of our encounter, while Jinhee’s tear-streaked visage bore witness to the anguish she sought to conceal.

Despite the blonde’s fervent climax, I found no solace in her release, my own satisfaction eluding me once more. Jinhee, ever perceptive, seemed to sense my inner turmoil, a ghost of a smirk playing upon her lips, a silent reproach that stoked the embers of my frustration. Feigning my own climax, I withdrew abruptly, hastening to don my garments once more.

“Get dressed,” I commanded tersely, my voice tinged with a hint of irritation. The blonde complied, though her departure was marked by a fleeting kiss, a gesture I met with cold indifference. As she made her exit, Jinhee fled the room, her tearful retreat a poignant reminder of the wounds we both carried.

Left alone amidst the remnants of our encounter, I grappled with the inexplicable emptiness that gnawed at my soul. The intensity of our liaison should have brought satisfaction, yet I found myself adrift in a sea of disillusionment. As the blonde’s departing footsteps echoed in the hallway, I struggled to make sense of the void that engulfed me.

“Shall we go to the bedroom now?” she ventured, her voice thick with expectation. But I could offer no solace, no reassurance of a future together. “No. You’re going home,” I replied curtly, the weight of my words hanging heavy in the air. With a resigned smile, she accepted my dismissal, masking her disappointment with practiced grace.

I swiftly ushered her out, eager to rid myself of her presence. Once alone, I hurried to the bathroom, seeking solace from the chaos of my thoughts. The steam from the shower enveloped me, washing away not just the physical residue but also the lingering scent of her cheap perfume. Dressed and composed, I headed towards my car, my mind still in turmoil.

Standing before Jane’s college, I found myself gripped by an inexplicable urgency to see her, to bask in the warmth of her presence. As the students dispersed, my eyes finally alighted on Jane, her hands adorned with paint, and her face adorned with a radiant smile. Beside her stood Eunji, carrying canvases adorned with beautiful paintings, one of which bore a striking resemblance to the lion tattoo adorning my chest. Their interaction, though brief, filled me with a tumultuous mix of emotions.

I followed and was relieved when they got home, after exchanging a few words, Jane got in, leaving Eunji lingering for a moment, watching her departure with a wistful gaze. His fondness for her was evident, stirring conflicting emotions within me. As I approached him, I rolled down the window to greet him.

“Good evening,” I offered, attempting to maintain a neutral tone.

“Good evening, Mr. Park,” he responded, his smile masking an underlying wariness.

“We seem to have made a habit of meeting up,” I remarked, trying to break the tension.

Eunji’s gaze shifted to the helmet in his hands, his demeanor betraying a hint of defensiveness. “I’ve come to bring Jane,” he stated matter-of-factly.

He shrugged, a subtle gesture indicating his awareness of our proximity. “Hum, you’re pretty close,” he remarked, prompting a twinge of guilt within me.

“Not as close as I’d like, but we’ll get there,” I replied, the weight of unspoken truths hanging heavy in the air.

As he donned his helmet and prepared to depart, I offered a parting sentiment. “I hope it all works out.”

“It will, she just needs to forget someone who isn’t worth it,” he assured with a hint of sympathy. “Well, I’m off. Good night, Mr. Park.”

With his departure, I was left speechless, grappling with the realization that bitterness was consuming me. Jane deserved better than the resentment festering within me. Pulling into the garage, I parked the car and entered the house, my thoughts still consumed by the evening’s events.

In the living room, Jinhee sat amidst the remnants of her anguish, a solitary figure nursing a martini. I strode past her without a glance, her voice breaking the silence with a poignant question.

“Are you done with your revenge?” she inquired, her tear-stained face a testament to her vulnerability.

I turned to face her, a sarcastic smile tugging at the corners of my lips. “I’m just getting started,” I retorted, my tone laced with bitterness.

“And is this making you feel better? Seeing the woman you love like this?” she pressed, her arms raised in a gesture of despair.

“It was a good start,” I conceded, the weight of my actions bearing down on me.

“You weren’t even enjoying it, Jason,” Jinhee observed, her words a painful reminder of my detachment. “You didn’t feel anything for her.”

Her approach drew her closer to me, her touch a stark contrast to the emotional chasm between us. “Not like you feel about me,” she insisted, her gaze penetrating my defenses.

I turned away, attempting to distance myself, but her grip on my arm held firm. “Hello, Jason? Am I imagining things?” she challenged, her proximity unsettling.

Her touch ignited a familiar sensation within me, a longing that I struggled to suppress. “You know, these last few nights I’ve missed you,” she confessed, her hand tracing a path across my chest.

Her words resonated deeply, stirring conflicting emotions within me. “Your body doesn’t deny it, Jason, you’re mine!” she declared, her conviction unwavering.

As she leaned in for a kiss, I mustered the strength to push her away-a feat I never imagined I could achieve. Yet, despite my longing for her, visions of her with her lover flooded my mind.

“Stay away from me, or I’ll throw you out. Then I want to see who will want to help you. You’ve been without your cell phone for two days and no one seems to have missed you, not even that lover of yours for whom you threw away our marriage,” I asserted, a sense of triumph creeping into my voice as her tears flowed more intensely.

“I bet he’s just happy to have got rid of a spoiled, selfish woman like you,” I added, unable to stifle a smile as her anguish unfolded before me.

“Jason, please stop,” she implored, attempting to wipe away her tears. Each tear only served as a reminder of the nights I spent alone while she likely indulged in infidelity.

“Accept it, Jinhee! The only idiot who loved you was me. Siwoo was just taking advantage of you and your family’s money. Ever since I met him, I’ve seen him with a different woman every week,” I declared, striking a nerve with her.

“That’s a lie! You’re just saying that to hurt me,” she retorted, her eyes blazing with fury as she lunged towards me, pushing me back.Content protected by Nôv/el(D)rama.Org.

“Is that so?” I challenged, retrieving my cell phone to unveil the truth. With a few taps, I revealed images of her lover, Celine, an American model, in compromising poses. Her shock was palpable as she crumpled to the ground, tears streaming down her face.

“I can’t believe it,” she muttered in disbelief, her world crumbling before her eyes.

“What did you think? That your lover was faithful to you?” I quipped, a bitter laugh escaping me as I turned to leave.

Before I could exit, she hurled a glass against the wall, narrowly missing me. “Clean it up! NOW!” I demanded, my frustration boiling over.

As Jinhee’s sobs intensified, Mrs. Amelia entered the room, her expression fraught with concern at the sight of Jinhee kneeling amidst shattered glass.

“Mrs. Park? Are you all right? Do you need any help?” she inquired, her gaze flickering between Jinhee and me, a silent judgment hanging in the air.

“Mrs. Amelia, I know what it looks like, but I didn’t touch her. She threw that glass at me and narrowly missed my head. She’s crying like that because she found out that her lover has others,” I explained, a tinge of desperation creeping into my voice.

As Mrs. Amelia’s scrutiny lingered, I felt a pang of regret for the rift I had caused. “And that’s why you broke her cell phone too? And hired a security guard to keep her out?” she pressed, her disappointment palpable.

“Mrs. Amelia…” I began, grappling for words to justify my actions, but her next statement cut through me like a knife.

“My son, I don’t recognize you,” she lamented, leaving me to ponder the depths of my transformation.