Pop Singer: A Dark BWAM / AMBW Romance (29 page)

BOOK: Pop Singer: A Dark BWAM / AMBW Romance
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I wondered if there was a burgeoning romance they were hiding from me.

 

Did they fuck at night?

 

Did they find each other attractive to the point where they could not keep fingers and hands away from lips and mouth?

 

They seemed to
prefer
the truck, even though they protested otherwise. Doth thou…

 

Anyway.

 

They did not want to come and join us, so into our private room we went.

 

But the moment the door closed behind us was the moment that Henrietta suddenly became shy and wary.

 

As if she was switching back to her old personality when she had been stuck in the house, the burning house.

 

Like she had been only putting on airs for Bit-na to safeguard her own ego.

 

“I’m scared and I’m everything else,” Henrietta said, sitting down on the bed. “I’m sorry that I’m acting like this in front of you. I don’t want to be a mopey mess. I know that I am deadweight. And that you need to get rid of me as fast as possible. But…”

 

“Speak to me more. Tell me what’s troubling you.”

 

I sat down next to her, wrapping my arm gently over her shoulder, slowly at first, but when she did not flinch, I moved all the way down with my hand to her own hand.

 

Pumping her palm as she did mine. Making her feel as safe as possible, so that she could rest her forehead on my shoulder.

 

And she did so, hesitantly, and then expectantly, as if she knew I would be there—a strong wall or a place of solitude.

 

“I don’t want you to fret like this,” I said. “Just tell me what’s going on in your head. And I can help you solve it out. I had a lot of hardships in my life—I promise you, this won’t be the end for you.”

 

“I was supposed to come here to Korea to showcase my artwork. I was supposed to prove to everybody back home in Lincoln that I would be somebody. That I was going to be a famous person worthy of merit. My father—he told me how art was useless, or rather, that I would not be able to pay my own bills. And here I am, stuck and leaning on somebody else for support. I hate it. I wanted so badly to showcase everything—my favorite pieces, all gone.”

 

“Henrietta,” I said, rubbing her shoulder, making her face me, slowly tilting her waist, that curvaceous and beautiful waist. “I know that everything is really hard. I know. Look at me.”

 

She did so. And I pointed to my eyes, my nose, my jaw. I had not been eating properly. I had not been living as I normally did when I was tour, on-point always.

 

I still looked like an echo of myself, but I was only a husk.

 

“I can walk around in public and no one even recognizes me,” I said. “Did you notice how we were in the middle of a public hospital and no one even called me out. My face is probably all over the media, but it’s a fall from grace. I’m not the pop singer that you knew. Not right now. So I know what it’s like to have everything stripped from you. I do.”

 

In fact, we had a TV in the room. So we turned it on, and although the reception was pretty scratchy, we managed to get a couple of channels through. What we saw was pretty mundane though.

 

No crazy headlines.

 

As usual, the media had moved on. If they ever mentioned me and the Twin Swords, they would do so only in a tiny segment, which Henrietta and I saw briefly. Only in bits and pieces did they talk about the Double Dragons.

 

And me.

 

A star with so many rumors swirling around. The anchors on every channel that we flipped to didn’t have a complete consensus about what had gone on behind the scenes. I turned off the TV and sat back in bed.

 

“See?” I said.

 

“I know you’re part of this Double Dragons—or were—from what I can understand. I just… want to go home… I want to have what I came here for also though. I said I got you before, but now the picture’s becoming clearer.”

 

“You want to have it all. But sometimes you have to make compromises.”

 

I was not sure what was going in her mind. She seemed definitely starstruck, but then cognizant of her situation.

 

Were we meant to even be together like this?

 

Were we even supposed to have met one another?

 

Ironically enough, the Twin Swords tried to keep us apart, but they only brought us closer.

 

“Day by day,” Henrietta said. “Day by day then.”

 

“Do you feel safe with us?”

 

“I don’t feel safe in Korea at all. With all of my belongings gone? Everything stolen from me. I don’t know where anything is. My passport, my credit cards, my phone, my laptop. And who would believe my crazy story? That some underground gang set me up?”

 

“Not many,” I said. “They know about the gangs, the police do, but I’m not sure that they would take a foreigner’s word. They would probably brush you off like the American woman that you are.”

 

“Is it because I’m…”

 

“Some people can be discriminatory as well,” I said. “The times are changing though. We can get you out. You can live your good life again.”

 

Henrietta shook her head. “You know what’s really bothering me the most?” She stood up, pacing around the room, her body becoming rigid and her voice furious. “It wasn’t just having all of my artwork destroyed. It wasn’t just being duped. It wasn’t just being abducted and taken away. No. It was the fact that he stole my humanity. He conducted all of this and duped me. And I fell for it. Me! I want to go home, but I know now what’s making me so uncomfortable is that I want… I want revenge.”

 

“Oh?” This was a new occurrence to me. Henrietta had seemed wishy-washy, meek, and shy. She seemed slightly peeved sometimes, here and there. But she never flashed fury and rage at me. And I was expecting to it to arise eventually, but when she was thinking about everything in retrospect. When she was back home in the United States, I expected her to become angry
there
.

 

The fact that she was voicing her opinions now?

 

A new development.

 

“I don’t want him taking other people. Because he will take other people. I know he will.”

 

“What are you trying to say?”

 

“Maybe I… I don’t want to go back to the United States just yet. Maybe I want to come with you and take Oh-seong out. Get back at that guy!”

 

I arched an eyebrow. “I don’t know about that, Henrietta. Sit down here for a moment and think. Do you know how to fight anybody? Have you ever been—”

 

“Stop,” Henrietta said. “Stop it. I know you’re trying to be comforting to me. But I want to hold that man’s face against a flame. I really… I just want him here so that I can have him for myself to torture. What he dragged me through—no one should ever have to encounter that again.”

 

“Settle down for a moment,” I said, patting the bedside. She did so, huffing and puffing. I watched the way her breasts heaved forward, upwards and then downwards. I’m embarrassed to say it, but she aroused me when she was so angry like this. There was a fire in her, a vivaciousness I had not seen before.

 

A certain liveliness that turned me on. “Why don’t we get some rest? We can think about all of this revenge stuff later. Right now, we still have to go to Japan. Recalibrate and make sure that we’re on the right track for things. I know that Oh-seong’s gang is going to be looking out for us. Him and his cronies. Hyun-jun.”

 

Henrietta fell backwards against the bed, huffing and puffing still. She turned to face me, her eyes delirious with emotion. “I can’t believe he took me like that,” she said.

 

“I can’t believe it either,” I said, relaxing back into a pillow. “But what’s done is done. What’s done is done.”

 

“Will you let me have revenge on him?”

 

There was a poetic justice about having the abductee hurt Oh-seong. For all of his crimes and wrongdoings, Henrietta would be the one to get him back.

 

It would be perfect, in my eyes.

 

“I wouldn’t mind,” I said. “But will have to think about it first.”

 

“I don’t know how to prove my worth to Bit-na,” Henrietta said. “She’s so leery of me.”

 

I yawned. “One day at a time. Maybe tomorrow she won’t even be here anymore. She’ll ditch us or something.”

 

Henrietta slid across the bed slowly. She smiled at me, and then wrapped her hand around mine. “I never did thank you for saving me. Not properly. So thank you for taking the fall. Thank you for helping me out back there.”

 

“I thought it was only right for such a beautiful woman,” I said, my voice low and husky. “And you are a beautiful woman.”

 

Henrietta giggled. “You’re still really attractive,” she whispered. And then, while closing her eyes, she said, “You still look like the album cover to me.”

 

As she went to sleep, I felt my heart pulse. And then I thought about her in my dreams, how gracious and gorgeous Henrietta truly was.

HENRIETTA

I rolled over in my sleep. In the middle of the night, I woke up.

 

Jong-soo was staring at me, sleepily, his eyes a little bit open. “It’s not time to wake up yet,” I said. “Is something wrong?”

 

Jong-soo pressed himself against me, my breasts tight and warm. My nipples full of tender sensation. I’m not going to lie, I was having an orgasmic dream. The same one I had had nights ago in the bathtub.

 

And now that I was awake, I was staring at the man who I idolized, who I…

 

No.

 

Was I really going to have sex with him now?

 

Was this the right time?

 

But his hands were rough and soft, gentle around my waist.

 

He pressed closer and closer, until his face was against mine, and I felt the hot breath of his throat achingly stretching deep down into my lungs.

 

I inhaled him, all of his scent, his erotic fervor.

 

The way his hands stretched underneath my breasts, touched for my nipples, his index fingers caressing the outer edges of my areolas with simple strokes and flicks of his wrists.

 

“I… I…” I didn’t have words, only a body language that he understood and knew.

 

That he had been watching the entire time since he met me.

 

From the moment we laid eyes on one another, we knew how to fit and interlock our bodies mentally. Because the way he touched me made me feel as if he had planned this interaction, waited for the right moment, the subliminal message that I would send in my sleep.

 

Maybe I whispered to him nearly silently at night, a strange call to his dreams.

 

And then he was brought awake from his own dreams and ready to go.

 

“You are so beautiful,” he whispered. “You must have a boyfriend back home. I don’t know if I should touch you like this. Or should I?” He grinned, and I saw all of his straight white teeth, his dapper jaw line, the way his nose was long but not too long or squat. A strong brow line, and a broad forehead, but with thick hair at the top as to make his face framed perfectly in black spikes. He brushed over his hair, and I went with his hands there, feeling the roots of his scalp.

 

“And you’re so handsome,” I said. “It’s no surprise to me that you are. I figured that they would need a lead singer who knew how to dress well and everything. Even when he’s a vagabond.”

 

“If you think that I look good now,” he said, “then you just wait later.”

 

I gasped, his hands underneath my belly, feeling upwards to my nipples again, twisting around the centers, feeling around the sensitive core.

 

My flesh buzzed with a thousand shards and fragments of energy bursting throughout my spirit. My head bounced up and down on the bed and my breasts heaved, my chest unable to keep up with the momentum of air rushing inside of my throat, down into my body.

 

“Do it again,” I said.

 

Jong-soo pushed his hands flat against my breasts now, my bra still on, and then he moved on top of me, straddling my hips.

 

He lifted my shirt all the way up until it was stretched over my head, and then fitted my hair on through.

 

With a toss of his arms, he threw aside my shirt.

 

Then he reached backwards with one hand, and fiddled with my bra strap. A click and then it was gone.

 

He threw it aside, and my breasts spilled out from their restraints.

 

Throbbing and hot and heavy.

 

Ready to be absolutely taken by him.

 

I wondered what he was going to do with me.

 

What he might have in mind.

 

“What do you like?” Jong-soo said, gasping. “I want to pleasure you and give you everything that you desire. All of your thoughts for a true fan.”

 

I nodded, saying, “Can you… I want you to put your cock between my breasts.”

 

Jong-soo smiled, undoing his pants. He swayed to the left and right, slowly dragging out his thick thighs from each pant leg.

 

Then he wiggled his hips, and casted them aside. With another wiggle, he pulled down his boxer briefs, letting his big cock flop against my stomach.

 

It was long and hard, turgid, and reached from where he was on my pelvis all the way up against my bellybutton and further and further. The tip of his cock reached until the bottoms of my breasts. Thick and long.

 

“Oh my God,” I said. “I’ve never seen that kind of girth or size before.”

 

“You’ve never seen anything like this? Oh, I’m glad that I can be the one to show you what it’s like.”

 

With a single thrust of his hips, Jong-soo brought his cock straight up between my breasts, rubbing the tip of his cock against my skin.

 

My ebony warmth.

 

I squeezed my shoulders inward, letting the slickness of his cock grease up the center of my breasts.

 

He squirted pre-come, creating a sort of tunnel in between my chest, thrusting another time downwards, and then pulling forward again, digging into my skin.

 

His cock slammed right up against the bottom of my chin, and I arched my spine, electricity and orgasm, a euphoria raking through my body, causing goosebumps to flourish across my every bit.

 

My vagina and clit throbbed.

 

My clit squirted, and caused a mess underneath him.

 

I blushed!

 

It was so embarrassing for me to be squirting. I usually never squirted. Hell, I never ever squirted before until Jong-soo.

 

But here I was, sitting underneath him, his arms now pinning me down, his head right over me, his muscular chest lording over my face.

 

“Did that feel good?” Jong-soo said. “I want to feel every single part of you. Explore all of your body parts. Make you feel alive.”

 

I gasped, my eyes rolling to the sides, feeling completely delirious everywhere. Like he said, every single part of me was being explored, his hands roving across my hips, over my breasts again, his cock now sitting at the base ready to plunge forth even more.

 

How deep could he go?

 

Down my throat?

 

Down my breasts?

 

Inside of me?

 

I wanted to have this info immediately.

 

To have him tell me through his body language how he truly was as a person.

 

Violent?

 

Kind?

 

He had only told me so much in words and in actions.

 

“It felt amazing,” I said, gasping, my breath stolen and taken away to a faraway place. I nodded my head, squeezing my breasts along his cock again. “Every piece of you, every inch of you is amazing. Do it, please. For me.”

 

Teasing me, he said, with a wry smile, “I don’t know exactly what you mean. What do you want me to do to you? Show me with your hands come on.”

 

He leaned forward, his hands now taking mine, lifting them up from the bed, miming in the air. “What is it that you want me to do specifically?”

 

“I want you to… just fuck me someplace. I don’t care where. Show me what kind of man you are!”

 

“Of course,” he said, growling, his fingertips digging into my skin, his bone touching mine, rattling every single part of my head, my skull all the way down to my toes, which curled effortlessly with the storm of euphoria and ecstasy battling my brain cells.

 

I closed my eyes, my stomach fluttered, my feet curled up even tighter, and Jong-soo pushed with his cock against my breasts, slicking the way with pre-come, bouncing and angling himself upwards to my chin, and then pulling away, back with his hips, dragging his sensitive flanged head against my skin.

 

Goosebumps channeled electricity up my breasts.

 

My nipples charged with heat.

 

He placed his flanged tip against my nipple, first my right one, and then my left one.

 

With one hand, he reached over to the other nipple, making sure that I was always pleasured with either his finger or the tip of his cock.

 

He inched lower against my body, pressing his finger, digging into my flesh, feeling for my clit with a gentle flick of his finger.

 

He rolled the tip of his thumb against my clit causing me to squeeze out another blast of juice against him.

 

I blushed even harder, my head so totally enamored with him, flushed hot and heavy with his face in my mind.

 

I screamed out, my vocal chords scraping together in a harsh sound.

 

A shrill shriek.

 

I stretched my neck upwards, arching my spine so much, I thought it might snap in half from my vertebra straining tight.

 

“Oh my God,” I said. “God…”

 

Jong-soo gripped my lower breasts, fondling them with his palms, and now slapped his cock against my nipples, his fingers digging into my hood, then back upwards against my clit.

 

I screamed again, my body wracked with the pleasure I thought at first was pain, but in fact was a transforming and euphoric sensation stretching across my hips, and leading straight into where he pounded against my breast tissue again and again and again.

 

“How about this?” Jong-soo said, leaning forward, pressing his tongue against me, slowly removing his cock from the center of my chest.

 

He dug underneath me, lifting me up with his hands, pressing his palms against my shoulders.

 

He hugged me tight, his lips now on mine, slowly caressing my upper, and then my lower.

 

He opened his mouth, biting down on my meaty flesh, sending electric shocks throughout my head.

 

I spasmed there on the bed, had no idea of where I was in that time and place.

 

With another bite, he sent an electrical shock all across my body now, making me rise and thrash about everywhere.

 

My legs kicked up, slamming into his rib cage. He eased down my legs, his hands quickly going around to my ass, feeling my cheeks.

 

“I love this,” he said, squeezing for my clit and vagina. He kissed me again, lifting up his head, and then feeling for my legs.

 

With his arms, he hooked underneath my knees, and stretched them upwards until my feet were on his shoulders, until my legs were hooked over and by his head.

 

He looked down at me, his cock arched to the sky, dripping with so much pre-come, that I suddenly realized my legs were slicked over and wet.

 

Glistening in the night, bright with his effort, sweat and fury.

 

“I can pound you really good,” he said, “I’ve never had complaints about how well I do it. How well I fuck!”

 

He yanked me forward, slamming his cock against my clit at first, dribbling pre-come over my juices.

 

With his hands, he leaned in forward, and pressed his cock deep inside of me, guiding his cock deeper and deeper.

 

Then he stretched upwards, expanding his fingertips towards my clit rubbing the outer edges of my hood.

 

Quickly, and with fast movements, he thrust inside my canal, taking some of his pre-come and my juices and bringing them to the outer edges of my breasts, then to my nipples, stroking the outer areolas, the centers and then back to my clit simultaneously.

 

His hips gyrated, keeping up a momentum that never seemed to stop, pounding me harder and harder, striking deeper for the center of my G-spot.

BOOK: Pop Singer: A Dark BWAM / AMBW Romance
11.56Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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