Chapter 147 : Side Story 2: Jealousy #8

My heart stung.

He wasn’t wrong. I’d always treated his clinginess like a kid’s tantrum—because I’d watched him grow up. Or maybe… I’d just taken it for granted that he’d always stick to me.

But every single time, he’d been dead serious. He must have felt exactly like I did tonight.

Guilt crashed over me like a wave.

And I felt pathetic.

I’d thought I was the cool one who never got jealous.

But the second I saw him with some unknown woman, the floor had vanished beneath me. That feeling was still vivid.

I swallowed, shook my head.

“No… I get jealous too. A lot.”

Come to think of it, the whole stupid “let’s pretend to date other people” idea started the day Seunghee mentioned blind dates for Doyoon. I’d hidden behind “we can’t get caught,” but really I was terrified he’d actually meet someone else.

Even when he instantly invented a fake girlfriend at Ah-young’s lunch, I’d been pissed for the same reason.

Only now did I realize the truth.

I bowed my head.

“Sorry.”

“…”

“I think I’ve been way more jealous than I admitted.”

Doyoon broke into the brightest grin, crawled back onto the sofa, wrapped his arms around my waist, and planted a loud smacking kiss on my lips.

“I love it. Then show it more. Chase me when I talk to someone and demand to know what happened. Ask who I was with if I’m late. Throw a fit when I say I’m meeting someone you don’t know and insist on coming.”

He was whining on purpose, voice all cute and pouty.

I burst out laughing—love and guilt mixing into something unbearably tender.

“…I’ve been too cold to you.”

He pressed a finger to my lips.

“It’s okay. This is how we figure each other out.”

Then, suddenly shy:

“And if you really feel bad… pay me back another way.”

“Ah— ngh— stop— hngh— f*ck—!”

Every brutal thrust from behind tore broken moans out of me. I buried my face in the mattress; the sheet was already soaked with drool and didn’t care.

One eye was squashed uncomfortably. Vision blurred, flashed white, went black again.

Every time that massive cock slammed in, electricity shot from my thighs to my toes. The wet slap of skin, my ragged panting—obscene.

Today he was heavier, meaner; my trembling arms could barely hold me up.

He gripped my hips and ground deep.

“Hyung… any other times you got jealous?”

My upper body collapsed. He immediately slid a hand under my stomach and yanked me back up.

I braced on shaking forearms again. The sheet beneath was ruined.

“Nngh— Doyoon— Doyoon-ah—!”

He licked my ear.

“Think hard. Any time is fine.”

Another hard smack of his hips.

I couldn’t speak—just took it, moans spilling nonstop.

He kneaded my ass like dough.

Pleasure coiled again, fast.

Hot kisses on my nape.

“I love that you were anxious because of me. Am I childish?”

His other hand seized my cock, squeezing hard.

Pain and need made me thrash.

“N-no— I was too— hngh!”

I’d say anything to make him let me come.

But he was relentless tonight.

Fingertips scratched lightly over my slit—pure torture.

“Then… who do you belong to?”

“I-I’m yours— ngh— f*ck—!”

“What was that? Can’t hear.”

“I’m— Doyoon— Doyoon’s— AH!”

He drove in like a battering ram.

My arms gave out with a choked cry.

From behind, a shaky, turned-on curse: “f*ck…”

Goosebumps raced down my spine.

He hooked one of my legs, flipped me onto my back effortlessly.

Before I could see the ceiling, his flushed, feral face filled my vision.

“But you’re Doyoon’s… so why were you so friendly with everyone else, you younger-guy killer?”

“That was a mis— ngh—!”

A whimpery cry tore out.

He grabbed my thighs and crushed down from above.

My legs were already spread wide, but he was putting feeling into it now.

The fat head forced me open; slick, ridiculous size sliding in, scraping every inch.

I instinctively pressed a hand to my stomach—scared it would bulge.

He laughed softly.

“Wondering where I am?”

“No— ngh!”

I yelled, wronged.

I was scared he’d punch through my gut.

He ignored me, pressed two fingers just above my navel.

“Right around here?”

Then he pushed.

I jolted like I’d been electrocuted.

“D-don’t—!”

He flattened his whole palm and crushed down while pounding mercilessly.

Words died; I just flailed, mouth opening and closing like a dying fish.

He grabbed one small pec, twisted the nipple between his fingers.

“Hii— ah—!”

“You said you were sorry… but I’ve got one more grudge.”

Tears hung on my lashes.

I looked up at him, pleading.

That’s a different issue!

“You left seven-years-younger me behind… and had fun with everyone else. So mean.”

I never did!

But guilt kept me quiet.

He twisted, sucked, flicked the bud until I shook, then whispered against my skin,

“While I was in the States, I thought about nothing but you.”

“Ngh— sorry— sorry—”

“So… I don’t wanna be the younger one anymore.”

I stared, breathless and baffled.

You don’t get to decide that!

He smiled, pure innocence.

“So… call me Hyung just once.”

“What?”

“Do it and I’ll forgive you. Like a proper adult.”

My brain short-circuited.

Call you Hyung?

Since when was this his kink…?

It’s just a word. In society it’s only used to address an older guy. Not even perverted—just “Hyung.” Some people throw it around on first meeting.

But…

“…No way.”

Call a kid seven years younger—eleven years younger in my original body—Hyung?!

Impossible.

The second I refused, my lower body slammed upward.

“HYAAA—!”

Vision exploded.

He pinned my torso in a crushing hug, arms like steel cables.

“…Doyoonie is so sad.”

He didn’t look sad at all.

Then his hips went berserk.

“Ah— wait— no— hah— f*ck— ngh—!”

Thwack—thwack—thwack—

He was trying to split me in half.

My upper body was trapped; I couldn’t move an inch.

Only my lower half took the onslaught—cock leaking like a broken faucet, rubbing against his abs.

I thrashed; the more I struggled, the tighter his ropes bound me.

Screams I’d never made before ripped out of me.

I clawed at the soaked sheet under my hips like it was a lifeline.

My toes kicked uselessly in the air.

“Stop— please— stop— ngh—!”

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