Chapter Nine - My Sweet Good Girl

Übermensch Philippines Concert Night

The air is thick with anticipation. The crowd's screaming from outside vibrates through the walls. Even from backstage, I can feel it, the pulse of the music, the energy of tens of thousands of people waiting for him.

I'm seated near a corner, away from the chaos, but with the perfect view of the stage through the wings. I sip warm water, still hugging the edges of professionalism, trying to ignore how fast my heart beats every time he appears on that stage.

When the lights shift. The crowd roars like a wave.He enters.GD, no, Jiyong, erupts into life under the lights. Every move calculated, raw, but effortless. He owns the stage like it's an extension of himself. He doesn't just perform. He devours it.I see now,Why they call him a legend.Why the industry bows to him.Why I......trap a man like that and end up trapping myself too.

Backstage is mayhem. Stylists running, cords tangled, makeup flying. The moment he gets off the stage, he's surrounded, changing outfits mid-sprint, someone wiping sweat from his jawline, another patting concealer over his cheekbones, another shouting countdowns to the next cue.

But between all that chaos,He always looks for me."Drink this," he says, handing me a bottle, his voice still breathless.He disappears.Minutes later"Hungry?" He tosses me a granola bar with a wink as a makeup artist dabs under his eye.

Disappears again.One time, as they pull off his sweat-drenched shirt and rush to get him in a new one, he still has the audacity to lock eyes with me, grin, and mouth, "You good?"

I raise my thumb in a casual gesture, trying to act cool.Inside, I'm melting like wax in a bonfire.He jogs past, brushing close, and mutters, "I'll be back soon."Like we're in some spy movie.Like he's promising me he'll return from war.He goes back out.Crowd explodes again.

I seated in my corner.Heart beating out of rhythm.Clutching my bottle of water like it's the only thing grounding me.

The lights begin to dim, signaling the last few songs. The entire arena is shaking with energy, fans screaming like it's their last night on Earth.

Jiyong walks to the corner of the stage, sweat glistening on his neck under the stage lights. He looks over the VVIP section, and then

That idiot.That stupid, stupid idiot.He cups his hands over his mouth dramatically, throws his head back, and shouts toward them like a wild fan,"WAAAAAAAAAAAA!" mimicking the screaming fans.

The whole crowd laughs. Even the VVIP section erupts in cheers and giggles.

My jaw slightly open.My left eye twitches.Did this man, this global icon, this King of K-Pop, this living legend, just mock his own fans like a five-year-old?

I cross my arms, slouching back in my seat.I can't believe I fell for this stupid guy.The same guy who shows up at my door with hangover soup.The same guy who traps me right back when I thought I was playing the game.The same guy who gives out granola bars in the middle of backstage chaos...And now? The same guy howling like a toddler on stage.

I cover my face with my hand.

"Lord save me," I mumble under my breath.

--

The van is dim and quiet, the city lights of Bulacan streaking across the window like golden ribbons.

"Are you sure you won't go with them to dinner?" I ask, trying not to sound like I care too much.

Jiyong leans his entire upper body on my arm, curling into me like an overgrown toddler. "No... I'm exhausted. I need charging," he mumbles, his voice muffled and ridiculously whiny.

This guy.This grown man.I glance down at him. His hair slightly messy from all the costume changes, and his fingers are lazily playing with my hand.Damn it. He's cute.Too cute.Dangerously cute.And then... he lifts his head.

"Are you still jealous?" he asks casually, but I know that tone, he's playing.My heart thuds."W-what...? Who...? When...?" I fumble.Stupid. STUPID.Why did I say that???"Got you," he grins, eyes twinkling, and pokes my nose.With. His. Finger.

His face is way too close now, close enough that I can see the flecks in his irises, feel the whisper of his breath across my cheek. I freeze. The scent of his cologne, mild, woody, devastating, pulls me under like a riptide.

I snap my head toward the window like it owes me money.

He chuckles under his breath.

But before I can recover, his hand finds my chin again, gently, so gently, guiding me to face him. His eyes are quieter now, more serious.

"You were jealous," he says, smiling but soft this time.

And then, as if the entire car is just a bubble floating in space, he leans in.My heartbeat skips like a scratched record.But instead of kissing me, he just... rests his forehead against mine for a second. Warm. Tender. Safe.

Then he pulls back and plops dramatically into his seat again, grinning like a child who just won a game.

--

The suite door clicks shut behind us, and the air inside feels... thick. Intimate. A little dangerous.

Ji Yong's left hand is gripping the takeout bag, but his right never let go of mine, not even when he fumbled for the keycard or kicked the door open with his foot like some rom-com scene. And now that we're in, he doesn't let go either.

He puts the food down gently, then before I can react, his hands hook around my waist and he lifts me, effortlessly, placing me on the table like I'm feather-light.

I try to stay composed. Calm. Unbothered.But my head lowers on instinct, my hands fidget slightly with the edge of my skirt.This is not calm. This is a category five internal crisis.

He leans in.His hands rest on either side of me, palms flat on the table, caging me in, but never in a way that makes me feel trapped. Just... seen.

He peeks up at me with that playful smirk, tilting his head slightly like a curious cat. "What?" I whisper, my voice barely audible.He grins."So you were jealous? With my fan?" His whisper is soft, but full of mischief.

I stiffen.He knows.Of course he knows.That stupid soundcheck stunt. That flirting. That smirk.

I try to avoid his gaze, looking everywhere, walls, food, chandelier, my own damn knee, but not him.

"You mean the crew," I whisper, finally. The words are small, fragile.

He chuckles.

And then, slowly, deliberately, he cups my face with both hands. Gentle. Warm. Steady. His thumbs stroke my cheek like he's memorizing the way I feel.

"Don't be," he murmurs."I just have my eyes on you."

His voice is low. Not teasing now, truthful.

Our lips are so close, the air between them practically buzzing. His nose grazes mine. His breath is warm against my mouth. I can feel the entire world shrinking down to this exact moment, this space between almost and everything.

My hand reaches up, brushing the hand around my neck. Not pulling him in. Not pushing him away.

Just... touching him.Wanting him.

"Hmm," I answer, because it's all I can say. Because if I speak now, I'll ruin the spell or cry or beg him to never leave.

And then

He smiles.The kind of smile that undoes you.And kisses me.Not rushed. Not showy. Not even hungry.Just... slow, intense.

Delicate, slow, and full of every unspoken thing we've both been pretending not to feel.

I melt.

My hands slide up his chest, feeling the hard line of his collarbone beneath the fabric of his shirt. His scent, a mix of faint cologne, sweat from the stage, and something purely him, pulls me under. His fingers tighten slightly on my face, then trail slowly down, gliding over my jawline, down my neck, until his hands rest at my hips.

He pulls me forward on the table, closing the space between us completely.

I gasp.

His mouth moves to my neck, lips brushing against my skin, barely touching, just enough to make me arch instinctively. His breath is warm, teasing, as he speaks into my collarbone...

"Still think I should go out there... flirt with the staff?"

I grab a fistful of his blazer, pulling him closer.He chuckles, pleased.

His hands slide under the hem of my blouse, fingers skating over the bare skin of my back. My legs instinctively wrap around his waist, pulling him flush against me. I feel his breath hitch in his throat, just slightly, as his hand cups the back of my neck and deepens the kiss.

He lifts me again effortlessly, my arms now wrapped tightly around his shoulders as he walks us toward the bed. Every step he takes feels like my heartbeat, loud, pounding, electric.

When my back hits the mattress, his hands never leave me. He pulls back for a moment, eyes scanning my face, lips parted.

"Still want me to go?" he teases again, voice husky, dangerous.

I shake my head, speechless.

"You sure?" he leans down, whispering against the shell of my ear. "Because if you don't stop me now... I'm not going to stop."

I look at him. Really look at him.

His messy stage hair. His flushed cheeks. The shadows under his eyes from the concert. His lips, kiss-bruised. And those grey contacts, wild and tender all at once.

His mouth crashes into mine again, this time unrestrained, like he's been starving and I'm the only thing that could ever feed him. His hands roam over my back, then down to the curve of my thighs, pulling me tight against his body. I can feel everything. Every inch of him pressing into me, warm and wanting.

He shrugs off his blazer with a single motion, lips never leaving mine. The moment it hits the floor, he takes my hand, pulls me up just enough to unbutton the first few buttons of my blouse. He pauses, giving me a chance to stop him. I don't. I watch as he lowers his head, kissing the newly exposed skin, slow and reverent like he's memorizing every detail with his lips.

"You drive me insane," he whispers, tongue flicking at my collarbone. "You and that damn elegant act. You think I don't see through it?"

He pulls the fabric further down, revealing the lace strap of my bra. His fingers glide along it, teasing, before he lets it fall down my shoulder.

"I like watching you lose control," he growls, voice low and raw.

I let out a soft whimper, surprising myself, my hands gripping his shoulders as he lays me back into the sheets. His weight presses down just enough to pin me, just enough to make my breath hitch.

His kisses trail lower, across my chest, my ribs, before he pulls my blouse off entirely. I'm arching into him now, desperate and hot and aching for his touch. His hands work with a practiced ease, but his eyes are on me the entire time, watching my reactions, breathing heavy as I squirm beneath him.

When his fingers reach the button of my jeans, he pauses again.I cup his face, thumb brushing over his cheekbone.I nod.That's all it takes.

He groans, unfastening the button, sliding the denim down my legs with a hunger I can feel between my thighs. His mouth follows the path downward, lips brushing skin, making me tremble, until I'm left in nothing but heat and lace.

He crawls back up, dragging his body against mine, lips brushing my jaw. As he pulls all the fabric away from his skin.

"I'm going to make you forget every damn thing except my name tonight," he says.

His hand slides up my neck, fingers brushing gently over my skin, until he finds that sweet spot just beneath my jaw. The pressure is slow, deliberate, not harsh, not cruel, but firm. His lips graze my ear as our bodies move in sync, like music only we can hear.

"You like giving me control, don't you?" he whispers, his breath hot against my ear. I nod, no words, just a desperate, silent plea. He smirks against my skin.

"You look so beautiful like this... undone, breathless, mine," he murmurs, voice like honey and fire.

My back arches into him, my fingers digging into the sheets, and I can feel the way he watches me, so focused, so hungry. Like he's mapping my reactions and storing them for later.

His hand stays at my throat, thumb brushing my chin, grounding me while the rest of me feels like it's floating.

I whimper his name, and he grins, lowering his mouth to mine again, kissing me like a man starved.

"Say it loud!" he says"Say it you want me"

"I... want you..." I really try hard to say it between in my breath

"Please..." I whimper, I can't believe myself now.

"I could watch you fall apart like this all night," he says, his voice wrecked with desire, but still so damn controlled. "You're not elegant now... And I like this version."

His words hit deeper than I expect, and it's not just desire thrumming between us, it's something heavier, something dangerous.

And that... scares me.

His movements grew more relentless, a primal, untamed rhythm that consumed every inch of me. He wasn't just inside me, he was claiming every desperate gasp, every shuddering breath.

"You like this?" he rasped, his voice thick and breathless, a dark challenge in the heat of the moment.I could only manage a choked nod, my vision blurring at the edges.

Yes, I liked it. I liked the raw, untamed edge of him, the way he pushed me to my limits. His hand snaked up, tangling in my hair, pulling it hard enough to elicit a sharp, involuntary moan from my lips.

"Please..." I whimpered, begging for release, for something I couldn't name.

"Not yet," he muttered, his voice a low, dangerous rumble against my ear. "I won't let you come like this."

Oh, my. The words were a torment, a cruel denial that only intensified the fire raging inside me. I was trying to hold on, trying to contain the inferno, but with every rough, driving thrust, every powerful rock that sent us reeling, the flames threatened to consume me whole.

"I... I can't... bear it anymore"

"Please, Jagi..." I pleaded, my voice hoarse, on the verge of breaking."Jiyong!" His name tore from my throat in a desperate cry, a sound of pure, unadulterated release as I finally shattered, letting go completely.

The world exploded in a kaleidoscope of sensation, a dazzling, burning climax that stole my breath and left me trembling.

He followed moments later, a guttural groan echoing mine, his body convulsing with the force of his own release.

He collapsed beside me, his weight heavy and comforting, both of us breathless, our skin slick with sweat.

He slowly lifted a hand, his touch surprisingly gentle as he began stroking my messy hair away from my flushed face. "Good girl," he whispered, the words soft, possessive, and utterly content.

His touch, even in the aftermath, remained possessive, electrifying. His hand, which had been stroking my hair, slowly slid down, finding its way to my chest. He wasn't rough now, but tenderly, almost reverently, pulling my nipples in soft, gentle tugs that still sent shivers through me. A soft whimper escaped my lips, a sound of pure contentment mingled with renewed arousal.

He leaned in, his warm breath fanning my skin before his lips found their target. He began sucking my nipple, hard, a deep, demanding pull that made my hips instinctively arch. His tongue joined the play, swirling and teasing, a maddening dance that reignited the embers still burning within me.

"Nggg..." The words were lost, swallowed by the sheer intensity of the sensation.

Still breathless from the recent climax, I felt his other hand drift lower, tracing a scorching path down my stomach, past my navel. "I like it when you're so wet like this," he murmured, his voice a low, husky rumble against my skin, confirming that even in our quiet recovery, the desire between us was far from sated.

The lingering heat between us intensified, a silent testament to the raw passion that still hummed in the air. His mouth never left my breast, his tongue a relentless, demanding force, suckling hard until a delicious ache spread through me.

And then, a new sensation ignited, a shocking jolt of pleasure as he slid two fingers inside me, warm and skilled. He began to move them in a slow, circular motion, gradually picking up speed, each rotation building the pressure, sending sparks through every nerve ending.

A deep moan tore from my throat, raw and uninhibited, as my fingers instinctively buried themselves deeper in his hair, gripping tight.

"Oh, my..." The words were breathless, lost in the overwhelming rush. He pulled back just enough to look into my eyes, his own gaze dark with a mixture of desire and adoration.

"You have no idea how beautiful you are like this," he rasped, his voice rough with emotion.

But I couldn't say anything. My world had narrowed to the exquisite friction of his fingers inside me, the relentless pull at my nipple, the rising tide of sensation.

His fingers quickened, moving with an intensity that stole my breath, pushing me higher and higher. My thighs tightened, clenching around his hand, a desperate, instinctual response to the building pressure.

I pulled his hair hard, a silent plea, a desperate release, and then the world exploded. I came, a powerful, shuddering wave that left me weak and gasping.He chuckled, a low, satisfied sound that vibrated through me, and then leaned down to press a soft kiss to my forehead. "My sweet good girl," he murmured, his voice filled with tenderness.