Harin's back was still flushed from the earlier round—marks of Joon-ho's hands vivid on her skin, thighs slick with lingering pleasure as she lay sprawled, limbs tangled with Mirae's beside her. Mirae's breath was shaky, her own body sensitive from where Joon-ho had made her come so hard just minutes ago. The storm outside had grown wilder, but in this bed, nothing mattered except the three of them: skin on skin, sweat drying and mingling, their scent thick in the air.
No one needed to speak. The look in their eyes—blown pupils, parted lips, soft, wordless gasps—was enough. Mirae caught Harin's gaze, sharing a wicked, excited smile, then looked down between them at Joon-ho, sprawled and hard, his chest rising and falling, cock still wet from Mirae's release.
