She knows the right thing to do would be to stop gazing at his mouth, stop feeling this soft glow of desire. To slide off his lap. He deserves more than she can ever give him. But he’s looking at her like she hung the moon, and his thumb is tracing hesitant circles on her bare hip, and he smells like pine and soap and coffee and she can’t stop staring down at his lips, can’t stop her heart from pounding with a BPM that can’t possibly be healthy…

There’s only a centimeter between them, yet it feels like a mile. Perhaps fifty miles, Kisa revises, as longing twists in her chest.

“I don’t know,” she whispers again, her strained voice sounding tortured even to her own ears.

“Should we find out?” Seokga’s words are smooth, calm, but his hope shoots down the thread like an arrow shot straight to her heart. And his hands, oh, how his hands are trembling on her.

“I’d like to,” Kisa breathes before leaning that extra centimeter forward and pressing her lips to his.

“Am I, um, doing this right?” Kisa asks nervously sometime later, perched halfway over Seokga on his bed, the two of them having stumbled into the suite after the fairy lights had been shut off on Deck 10. “Is there, er, a certain sort of…angle…you prefer?”

Seokga stares up at her with swollen lips and a sated, dreamy expression that’s mingled with amused disbelief. “Kisa,” he practically purrs, “stop overthinking.”

With a gentle tug, he guides her head back down to his, and her mind obediently shuts off with the next tug of his teeth against her lower lip. His hands roll down her spine almost reverently, and she shivers in delight as they slip underneath her scrub shirt, resting just above her hips. Her skin suddenly feels terribly hot, and she finds herself wishing she was wearing nothing at all. Desire aches within her, and it’s hotter, more molten, than any late-night longings she’s ever felt before. An embarrassing noise escapes her lips as Seokga deepens the kiss and with extraordinary gentleness, rolls them over so he now lies atop her.

The feeling of him resting between her legs is almost too much to bear. Kisa wraps her legs around his narrow hips and gives in to pure instinct, running her hands through the silken strands of his dark hair and pressing up into him, arching her back until she’s certain he can feel the frantic thump-thumping of her heart. She shivers as his mouth pulls away from hers, glistening sinfully before his lips press into the side of her neck. Neck kisses. Who could have known that something so simple could feel so wonderful? No anatomy book ever suggested…oh…