The man casually sucked the blood from the tip of his finger, then without hesitation poured sugar and vinegar into the boiling soup.
"What are you **doing**?!"
"I'm trying to feed you in my own way. Why?"
"Please don't involve me. My tongue is delicate and **picky**!"
"That's because your fancy husband spoiled you too much, Han Seoryeong." He stirred the pot with lazy confidence. "How can someone always eat delicious food? From now on, you'll eat combat rations with me on the streets. Consider it training and just swallow it."
"Ugh!"
Seoryeong, whose chin was held tightly, shook her head desperately.
Lee Wooshin, holding a ladle, laughed and teased her.
"This is a problem, isn't it? If you reject everything related to your mouth, what are you going to do?"
"—!"
---
Suddenly, her body convulsed, and she vomited the food.
The last memory she had was sitting on the sofa shortly after that terrible dinner. The sound of plates and bowls clashing seemed to be her last memory—and now everything was pitch black.
_When had she moved to the bedroom?_
As she tried to get up, eyes half-open and still blurry with sleepiness, it happened.
"Sleep a little more."
"...!"
A heavy arm pulled her by the waist.
The hand gripping her stomach was so **hot**—it felt like it was burning.
_Who?_
Startled, she tried to break free. In response, a low and hoarse voice—much clearer than she expected—murmured in a half-conscious tone.
"Seoryeong. Be quiet."
Instantly, goosebumps rose on her arms.
_What is this?_
Lee Wooshin's voice, still heavy with sleep, sounded deeper and rougher than usual—as if it came from the depths of his throat.
And that voice... was very similar to **Hyeon's**.
Her heart started to beat rapidly. Her spine felt cold.
Frozen, Seoryeong stiffly turned her head to look at Lee Wooshin's face.
Even though she knew they were very different people, her trembling hand unconsciously moved towards the waist of his pants.
As soon as her palm touched the front of his pants—
"Ah!"
With a strong grip, Wooshin's hand caught hers as if wanting to crush it.
Even though his eyes remained closed, the heat and strength of his grip were palpable. In a panic, she tried to pull her hand away—but it was pressed even **harder** against the front of his pants.
It felt like something hot and hard was about to pierce her palm.
For a moment, she couldn't breathe.
While she was still frozen, a sharp voice cut through the tension like cold water.
"What are you trying to find by waking someone up?"
"...!"
"Do you want to compare it to your husband?"
In the darkness, she stared at Wooshin's now open and sharp eyes.
Those gray irises were as piercing as ever—a color she hadn't seen in a long time.
"If so, go ahead."
His voice was flat.
The hoarse voice from before felt like a mere shadow, as Lee Wooshin quickly returned to his usual self.
The bulge in his pants was now clearly visible—stiffening as if about to explode.
He casually unbuckled his belt and lowered his zipper.
The rough sound made Seoryeong's shoulders tremble. She didn't dare meet Wooshin's eyes.
"How far can a colleague's involvement be justified?" he asked.
"What?"
"How deeply can guilt bind two people?"
It was hard to tell if the look in his eyes was just lust or something more complicated—but that hidden greed was clearly present behind his flat expression, like a slithering snake.
"How much do you desire to be with me?"
He gripped Seoryeong's hand tightly, pulling it inside his shirt.
It was Lee Wooshin's characteristic strength.
He pressed her wrist against his collarbone. The bone felt hard and straight, connected to his sternum. After forcing her to trace the line of his bone, his hand guided hers down to his chest.
His tight, tense chest muscles felt like they were adhering to her palm.
**Thump-thump.**
A strong heartbeat touched her fingertips. She felt a small, hardened protrusion beneath her palm.
As she spontaneously pulled her fingers away, Wooshin's grip only tightened further—as if blaming her.
Her skin felt sore.
"Does it bother you—having a strange man wandering around your house?" His voice was low, dangerous. "I know you sometimes look at me as if trying to confirm something. At those times, were you thinking of your husband?"
"...!"
"When I walk around your house, do I remind you of him?"
Lee Wooshin smiled cynically at Seoryeong's frozen reaction.
He continued to play with her hand, rubbing it in circles on his chest and nipple, then deliberately pressing his fingernails into her skin.
"When I move, your gaze follows me—like you're starving. You're not aware of what kind of expression you make, but if you showed that face elsewhere—"
"Ugh!"
Her wrist hurt, but Wooshin only blinked slowly, as if he didn't care.
"If you make a mistake, you'll be in **real** trouble, Seoryeong."
"...!"
"So touch me as much as you want—and wake up quickly."
His hand pulled hers further down.
He pressed her palm against his rough abdominal muscles, moving it over the hard, protruding lines. Seoryeong's fingertips—as hot as match heads—slid over his firm muscles.
Lee Wooshin caught her fingers again, like holding crayons, and scraped his fingernails against his separated abdominal muscles.
The more uncomfortable she became, the wider his smile grew.
Seoryeong bit her lip in frustration.
Even if she tried some moves here... the soft bed beneath her made it more likely she would just flip over and break something.
Her instincts screamed not to provoke him.
"If you can't see it no matter what you do, just let it disappear."
"...!"
"That's also a tactic. And sometimes, it's the right move."
"Don't joke around."
As she clawed at his stomach, Lee Wooshin clenched his jaw.
A low growl escaped from the prominent veins in his neck.
However, as she touched him, she couldn't understand why her back felt a shiver of inexplicable coldness.
No matter how much she thought about it, his reaction felt **strange**.
"Han Seoryeong. Your eyes are red now."
"...!"
"You're aroused—touching someone who doesn't look like your husband. Or even resemble him."
Lee Wooshin pulled her closer by her waist.
Their lips were now so close that his sharp gaze almost swallowed her whole. His hard thigh pressed between her legs.
Their lower bodies were intertwined like roots, and that alone made it hard to breathe.
"This isn't what I meant by this."
She resisted.
"So, what did you expect me to do?"
"...!"
"I even took off my pants to make you feel **guilty**."
At that moment, her hand grasped something thick.
Her face flushed deeply as she felt his penis protruding from his pants. His skin—apart from the tattoo—was pale with a slight pinkish hue, but the veins bulging from its surface were not at all appealing, despite their subtle color.
_No matter how twisted this seems—_
She had only planned to check briefly. To see if it resembled her husband's. Without intending to do anything more.
Seoryeong tried to pull away in surprise, but the hand holding hers was the problem.
The hand pressing against his private parts began to move up and down, now intertwined with hers.
"Officer Han Seoryeong, let's act as if we're involved in this together."
"Are you **crazy**?!"
"Or let's pretend this is like a housewarming treat."
"...!"
"Didn't you learn that when someone moves in, they hand out treats?"
The man's penis swelled further in her hand—but the friction made it dry, and Wooshin frowned, clicking his tongue in frustration.
_How has it come to this point?_
Her confusion didn't last long.
He began to lick her palm while keeping their fingers tightly intertwined so she couldn't move.
"...!"
Intense heat radiated from his gaze. The satisfaction in his eyes was undeniable.
He let out a deep breath, thoroughly wetting and sucking her hand. After a playful bite, he wrapped his slender fingers tightly around his private parts, ensuring they fit snugly.
She had lost control a long time ago—but now her mind was completely blank.
His warm, wet hand grasped the base of his stiff penis, sliding without hesitation to its tip.
_Is this my hand?_
The round head and urethra appeared and disappeared before her eyes, repeatedly.
_All of this—with my hand!_
Breathing heavily, Wooshin bit Seoryeong's neck hard—like a wounded animal.
The wet sound of flesh making a sucking noise echoed in her ears. The tip of his penis, initially dry, was wet in an instant—emitting a strange scent.
Seoryeong shook her head frantically.
She couldn't compare it to anyone, not even Kim Hyeon. She was too taken aback by the moment.
Everything about this was **different**—the atmosphere, the humidity, the tension, the heat.
Every sensation she felt was completely unfamiliar.
Just by looking at and touching Wooshin, her mouth felt dry, and her eyes filled with heat.
She desperately wanted to deny this reaction—but she couldn't avoid it.
And it filled her with despair.
"Ugh!"
She wished she could faint right then and there.
However, Wooshin seemed determined not to let that happen as he aggressively rubbed the tightly closed slit of his organ with his finger.
His hand moved roughly, grasping even his scrotum, until a small amount of liquid dripped out—accompanied by that smacking sound again.
"—!"
During their training, she had considered her body just a tool. Nothing more.
But now, something vague gnawed at her heart—a subtle reluctance.
_What if he actually comes... in my hand?_
_And if that happens—_
Suddenly, a sharp glint appeared in her eyes.
Before everything escalated further—before he gave her any more power—she had to act.
Gathering all her strength, she kicked his head **hard**.
But Lee Wooshin—even with his head twisted from the blow—only shook his head, continuing his pleasure undisturbed.
"...!"
_What have I brought into my house?_