What is going on?
That is all Yona can think - it's repeating in her head, over and over again, unstoppably persistant.
What is going on?
"H-Hak…" she stutters, flames lighting up her cheeks, her nose, her ears, her neck.
Everything has gotten blurry - fuzzy, unfocused - as all the blood rushes to her face to fuel what could likely be the most intense blush she's ever experienced. And, with Hak, she tends to blush a lot, so that's saying something.
Yona's mouth is open, slightly, but she isn't saying anything, too stunned to form words.
And Hak's tongue is on her, lapping at her skin, dragging across her wrist, tying her stomach into knots.
"Hak-" she repeats, and, like the phrase in her head, it is a mantra.
What is going on?
Yona's fingers twitch in his grasp, but other than that, she doesn't move a muscle. Her entire body is frozen, watching him.
Hak pauses, finally, eyes shifting from her hand to her face like the night shifts into dawn - suddenly, unexpectedly, with brilliance. Her breath freezes in her chest.
The excess honey is nearly gone from her skin now, and neither one of them moves, for a few moments. Then Hak tilts his head and presses his lips to her palm and air rushes into Yona's aching lungs, shakily.
Something inside her melts, and everything becomes blissfully clear.
"Hak." Her tone is sure and breathy at the same time, full of all the things she's feeling - confusion and acknowledgment and nervousness and arousal, in a way she's never felt it before. Not even with Soo-won.
The way she says his name seems to do something to him, though it looks much more violent compared to Yona's soft melting. More like glass shattering, or bones breaking under the force of a blow.
His eyes close briefly before snapping open and focusing on her, intense and heavy with desire. The sight alone makes goose bumps flare along her arms, inches from his face, but if he notices, he doesn't say anything.
"Princess," he began, voice heavy in a way she's not used to, but not opposed to, either.
"If you say my name like that again, I'll attack you."
Blunt, but at least the implications are clear. She knows what she's getting into. They are outside - not far from the others, someone could walk by at any moment - but her heart is beating fast from something besides the fear of being caught.
Face flaming, Yona opens her mouth to respond.
"Bear," she says fondly, and he tightens his grip on her wrist.
"What if I said I was okay with it?"
The world blurs and suddenly Yona's flat on her back, a stray rock digging into her spine. She hardly notices it. Her body is shaded only by the bushes, which are just high enough to shield both her and Hak from anyone seeing.
"I'm not teasing you, Princess," Hak warns, a blush on his face and a fire in his eyes. He's propped up by his elbows on either side of Yona's head, and his legs, bent at the knees and not quite touching her hips but close enough for her to imagine the feel of it, keeps them from direct contact. She wants it.
"I'm not, either," she says softly, meeting his gaze without hesitation.
Something about it does the trick, and Hak leans forward, not taking his eyes off her face until their lips have touched.
He does close his eyes then, and she does the same, heart beating so fast in her chest she's afraid she might die.
Hak's lips are softer than she could have imagined.
Not that she thinks of it often - though her mind has wandered more than before, as of late. She'd thought that they'd be rough, like the rest of him, hard and chiseled and unforgiving. Maybe they'd be chapped from exposure, or from years of him persistently not-caring. She can certainly see that.
She'd been wrong, though - they are smooth like silk, forgiving in the way they seal against hers, like fate. Like a promise.
The sounds of the birds and the wind and the leaves shifting against each other as they move fade out and sharpen at the same time, and Yona doesn't give the small phenomenon a second thought as her arms come up between them, her palms pressed softly to Hak's chest as he tilts his head slightly, leaning into her.
She can feel his nose brush against her cheek, and his bangs tickle against her forehead, and she knows that nothing about this moment could be any more perfect.
Yona makes a little sound in the back of her throat when Hak's lips move against hers, and she hears him breathe in sharply. Things seem to happen quickly after that.
Hak's mouth part slightly and, when she feels his tongue trace the seam of her lips, she follows suit, hands clutching the material of his robes, twisting it into her fists, ignoring the sting as the cloth digs into her cuts.
Instead of tracing her teeth with his tongue like she'd expected him to, Hak uses her opened mouth to his advantage and takes her bottom lip between his, sucking on it lightly before pulling away, looking down at her face with dark eyes.
Her own are lidded, she knows, and she's panting lightly, unbearably turned on. Where had he learned to kiss like that?
"Princess, I won't hold back," Hak says, his voice an unsteady whisper, as if he's begging her to tell him to stop.
She knows it will be the last warning she gets.
"Don't, then," she replies, eyes going to his lips, and the consenting noise he makes sends her blood into a steady boil.
They're moving again, suddenly, and Yona is sitting on his lap, his back pressed to the wall of rock behind him. They're at an angle that would be hard to spot by anyone down below, and that must be Hak's consideration, because she's beyond caring.
Yona straddles him, knees pressed to his hips, and they're kissing again.
Yona's never done this kind of thing, but it's obvious that Hak has - that, or his just a natural at it, which wouldn't surprise her, if she's being honest - and she's a fast learner.
This kiss is all skin and tongue and parted lips and she loves it. She slides her hands up the sides of his neck, feeling the rapid pulse that matches her own, and keeps them there, brushing her thumb against his sharp jaw.
She shifts against him, finding a more comfortable position, and Hak breaks away from her, panting as he rests his head on the rock behind him.
"P-princess," he says, and Yona's confused for a moment before she understands.
Her father had never been one to teach Yona about things a mother would usually explain. Whenever she asked, he'd get flustered and embarrassed and call a maid in to do the talking. Yona didn't mind - her father was something of a coward, when it came to his daughter, so she forgave him.
What would the king think of her now?
Yona clears her muddled thoughts with a shake of her head and focuses on what is in front of her.
Hak's head is tilted back but he's watching her intently all the same, a muscle in his jaw jumping as he clenches it.
Hak, her childhood friend, her closest companion, her right hand.
Hak, the man that gives her hope when she has none, that stays by her side and takes care of her without asking for anything in return.
Or will you pay me with your body?
It seems so long ago, now.
Yona meets his gaze without hesitation, seeing the questions he's too afraid to ask. He's more open and exposed than she's ever seen him, so it's not hard.
Are you sure you want to do this?
Would you tell me if I was forcing you into it?
Do you care about me, Princess?
Do you love me?
Yona moves her hands to Hak's shoulders, broad and strong and hers, and leans closer, peppering kisses along his jaw and down his throat, gentle and reassuring.
Yes, Hak, she says without speaking, pressing her lips to his skin. Yes.
His hands fly to her hips and stay there, not doing anything except holding her steady.
She moves for him, pressing down into his lap, and he makes a little noise, hands tightening around her and keeping her there, letting her feel what she's doing to him.
The little noises aren't enough. Yona wants to hear more. She wants to hear him fall apart.
Where did this come from?
She doesn't know, but she also doesn't care.
She shifts forward, not lessening the pressure of her hips as much as rotating it, her lips pressed to his pulse point, and Hak keens.
Yes, she thinks, pulling back to look at his face. More.
His mouth is open and his breathing is ragged, watching her with lust-filled eyes, and it's the hottest thing she's ever seen.
"Hak," she says raggedly, breathlessly, trying to tell him everything she needs without having toactually tell him what she needs.
He understands nonetheless, not that that surprises her. His hands reluctantly leave her hips, and he undoes the tie of her cloak with one swift motion, letting the heavy, hooded garment slide to the ground behind her.
His hands go to the light pink sash tying her vest down, next, and they pause there. Yona looks from his longs, trembling fingers to his face, sees the insecurities there. He still pauses, asking wordlessly if she wants this, even now. The depth of how he cares for her would bring tears to her eyes, under different circumstances. She holds the feeling back, though, thinking that crying would almost definitely make Hak think she was opposed to what he was doing.
He is so good to her and she is so, so in love.
Yona's hands cover Hak's, looking small next to his large palms, and pull the bow apart, her vest coming loose.
He slides his hands under the garment without her help, pushing it off and into the growing pile of clothes on the ground.
The light pink gown is all that remains, now, which has ridden up substantially from her position.
His eyes rake over her, and she blushes, which is ridiculous. She's hardly showing any skin, but he's looking at her like she's naked, which she may as well be, under his gaze. She's more exposed like this than she has been her entire life.
Her hands are surprisingly steady when she reaches up to push Hak's overcoat off his shoulders, and he leans off the wall and over her, letting it slip to the ground.
In the position she's in, there's no way she's getting his other robe off, so she shifts back, missing the feel of him against her immediately. He looks to be thinking something similar, and his hands go quickly to the black sash at his waist.
Yona stops him with soft hands and a softer smile, and his eyes snap to her face, wide and wanting.
"Let me," she says, determined, and he nods without looking away, moving his hands.
The knot is easier to untie than she'd expected, and it releases in just a few moments, giving her access to the bare skin underneath.
Yona runs her hands across his collar, parting the cloak and sliding it off his arms to join his overcoat to some place forgotten.
She's seen him shirtless - it would be hard not to after all the years they've spent together. Whether it was swimming in his undershorts or stripping off top layers on hot summer days, Hak has never been shy about his body. Not that he should be.
She watches him watch her trail her hands across his chest, seeing the teasing words that just barely stay held back.
Like what you see, Princess? She can hear him say, but he doesn't.
And she does. She does like what she sees, but she'd never say it aloud. No need to make his head any bigger.
She moves to straddle him again and her hands slide down to his stomach, pressing against the hard muscle. Hak breathes in sharply, hands resuming their positions on her hips, and Yona notices several things at once:
One is that the sun has set almost completely now. When did that happen? She doesn't remember noticing it until right then, when it is startlingly obvious. It's dark, and the noise of the people below has dwindled to a absolute minimum, as if the others have started to turn in for the night. Yona wonders if they are wondering where she and Hak are.
Another is that Hak's skin is very warm, burning, even, and soft to the touch but unforgiving under the surface, like heated metal. His stomach clenches under her fingers, moving as she does, and she can't take her eyes off him.
The third and, perhaps, the most notable revelation is that, without the cloak, only Hak's thin black pants separate her from the bare skin underneath. She can feel his arousal pressed against her, but if he's embarrassed by it, he gives no such indication.
"Kiss me, Hak," Yona says to break the silence they've created, and he does so without pause, moving one hand to her back to press her body to his, trapping her hands against him.
His lips are unwavering and sure, parting almost immediately and flooding her senses with the taste of him. It's hard to describe, what he tastes like, but she can only relate it to the smell of a strong breeze. Hints of what lies ahead, beyond what she can see. Like the future.
She can feel his heat through her dress, but it isn't enough, so she takes his hands and place them on the hem, ridden up her thighs, and squeezes lightly.
His eyes sharpen and he doesn't hesitate this time when he pulls it up and off her. She raises her arms to help it over her head, shivering when the night's chill connects with her bare skin.
When it's off and she looks at him again, she almost laughs at his expression. He's looking at her with the kind of expression that says if he died, right then, he'd die happy. The thought warms her more effectively than clothes ever could.
Hak's hands are gentle when they brush against her sides, trailing across her back like a prayer.
Her bra and panties are both white - simple and practical, nothing fancy. She knows he doesn't mind that, though. It's obvious to her that Hak isn't one to obsess over lingerie, though his insistence for her to be sexier could convince others of the opposite.
"You're so beautiful," he murmurs, drawing her away from her thoughts, more sincere than she'd ever heard him sound.
So are you, she doesn't say, though it's true.
She smiles despite the embarrassed blush on her face and reaches up to brush his hair out of his eyes.
Her response to his words is a kiss, softer than all the ones they'd shared previously.
The chasteness doesn't last long, though, and soon they're pressed together, skin on skin like she'd craved.
She rotates her hips like she had before, harder this time, and he growls deep in his throat. The sound makes the hair on her arms raise, and she does it again, loving the feeling of him shudder against her.
He breaks the kiss, only to trail his lips across her jaw and down her neck, more insistent than she'd been. Yona gasps when he bites into her skin, panting when he soothes the mark with his tongue. She rocks into him with a long, steady roll of her hips and he lets out a surprised moan, fingers gripping her waist hard enough to bruise.
She doesn't mind - she's too focused on the sound he just made and her desire to hear more of them.
"Hak," she gasps out, clutching his shoulders desperately, and he knows what she wants without asking. He pulls away from her neck and lift her with the kind of animalistic strength that has her heart pounding.
He's gentle when he sets her down on her back, careful to avoid any sharp stones. The ground is cold on her skin but he is so, so warm, and he is more than enough.
He nudges her shoes off and does the same to his own, reluctantly moving away from her. She's okay with it, though, since it means she gets to look at him, which she enjoys doing.
His skin glows under the light of the moon, and his eyes are so dark she can hardly see the blue anymore.
Once he's set aside their shoes, he moves to come back to her, but she stops him by sitting up and laying a hand on his chest.
"Pants," she says with a voice that's far too commanding with what they're doing. The undeniably regal tone she used makes him freeze before his hands go to the string that holds them up, undoing it and pulling the waistband down his hips.
Yona let's him do it this time, watching his movements, red staining her cheeks despite her confident words. This was actually happening. She wanted this to actually happen. Since when had she had this kind of desire?
She has no time to ponder over the question, because Hak is throwing his trousers off to the side, and the undershorts do little to hide his arousal.
She tears her eyes from the intimidatingly large bulge and focuses on his face to find that he's already watching her.
"Hak-"
"Princess," he interrupts, coming closer and pushing her back.
Well, that's not entirely true. He doesn't actually touch her, but the prowl in his movements and the look in his eyes have her own widening, and she lowers herself inch by inch until she flat on her back again, and Hak's leaning over her.
"I'm not going to do anything you're not ready for," he continues, as if nothing had happened.
She can't decide whether she's relieved or disappointed, but Hak doesn't give her a chance to make up her mind.
His calloused hand travels across her stomach and around to her back, lifting her slightly off the ground to he can get to the clip of her bra that rests between her shoulder blades.
Yona lets him, surprised when she feels it unclasp seconds later. Has he done this before?
Hak laughs lightly, and Yona realizes she's spoken aloud, face reddening with embarrassment.
"No, Princess. I haven't. Stop worrying, you'll get wrinkles."
So he still has it in him to joke, after all.
Yona's protests die on her lips when Hak slips the straps over her shoulders, sending her a look before he pulls the bra off completely, discarding it without a glance.
His eyes roam over her skin, taking everything in, and Yona struggles with the urge to cross her arms over her chest.
She gasps when Hak's lips find her neck, biting and nipping at the sensitive skin. He kisses downward, dragging his mouth across her collarbone, before moving lower still.
Yona doesn't know what she'd expected it to feel like, but she is unprepared when Hak's lips close around her nipple, and even less so when the tip of his tongue flicks at the hardened nub.
Crying out, Yona's hands fly to his hair, wanting nothing more for him to stay right there and keep doing that forever.
Despite her wishes, Hak pulls away, glancing up at her face.
"Try to be quieter, Princess. It'd be a waste if you woke anyone."
Yona nods shakily, moving one hand out of his hair to press it to her lips, silencing the noises she doesn't trust herself not to make.
Hak smiles and crosses over to her other breast, licking and sucking in ways that have her biting her fingers, desperate to quell her whimpers and cries.
After a few minutes of absolute heaven, Hak abandons her breasts and trails his lips lower, pressing hot, open-mouthed kissed into the skin of her stomach.
His fingers curl around the elastic waistband of her panties, and he looks up at her, making sure she's okay.
The image was oddly erotic, and Yona doesn't waste a breath before nodding her consent hastily, her hand still covering her mouth. The other had released Hak's hair as well, and is now clenched into a fist on the ground, giving her means prop herself up slightly and watch what he was doing.
Hak glanced away from her face and pulls the underwear down her legs, fingers trailing her thighs. When they are all the way off, he tosses them to the side and runs his hands back up her legs, feeling her skin.
His hands settle on the backs of her knees, soft and reassuring. Gently, he spreads her legs apart and leans forward, pressing a kiss to the skin of her stomach just below her navel.
"H-Hak," Yona gets out from between her fingers, fighting the desire to snap her legs shut. No one has ever seen her like this before.
"I'm here, Princess," is all he says, and he couldn't have said anything that would have calmed her turmoil better.
She relaxes, breathing in, and watches him.
Sensing that she's calmed down, Hak moves back and presses his lips to the soft skin of her inner thighs, trailing up to where she needs him most.
He doesn't touch her at first, but she can feel the warmth of his breath, and that alone is enough to make her clench her eyes shut.
Then, his hands come up and he uses his thumbs to part her folds and she takes a second to feel mortified about how exposed she is before his lips and his tongue are on her, and all thoughts of embarrassment disappear.
Yona keens into her hand, her elbow sliding out from under her as she settles back on the ground, legs twitching and opening wider without her consent.
Hak's tongue is magic on her skin, and he strokes her folds, getting a feel for the taste of her.
His mouth comes up to close around the little nub nestled at the top (the clitoris, if she remembers her teachings correctly) and Yona's body jolts against him, tense and desperate.
"Hak," she cries out into her palm, and she's so far gone already she can easily ignore the neediness in her tone. Hak's hand moves to wrap his fingers around her thigh and push her legs farther apart, and she's done for.
She unravels quickly and spectacularly minutes later, legs tensing around him and chest shaking with all the effort it takes for her to breathe, arched off the ground as high as she is.
Yona slumps to the ground, stomach twitching with the aftereffects of the orgasm.
Hak gives her throbbing clit one last, barely-there kiss, as if he knew it was all she could take, before sitting up, looking far to satisfied with himself.
Yona doesn't have the energy to scold him. She watches him bring his hand up to wipe his chin, which is shiny and wet, before raising one shaking arm, finally uncovering her mouth, needing him close to her. There are teeth marks on her fingers, but she doesn't dwell on the sight.
He grants her silent wish immediately, leaning over and kissing her soundly.
He tastes funny, and Yona realizes that that's what she tastes like, and it isn't as gross as it probably should be that they're kissing right now.
"You," she says softly when they part, pressing her hand to his chest.
Despite her lack of words, he understands. As he always does.
"There's no need, Princess," he assures her, offering a smile that has her heart racing despite its innocence.
"I want to," she argues firmly, and she does. She wants him to fall apart the way she just did.
Hak stares at her for a while before huffing, a fond expression on his face. He says nothing as he leans away from her, on his knees. His hands go to the waistband but she surges up, slapping his hands away.
"I want to," she repeats, and he looks at her incredulously.
"You're so strong willed," he chastises, though he doesn't argue when her fingers dip into the elastic.
Yona eases the garment down, though it doesn't get very far, stopped by Hak's bent knees. He sits back, resting against the rocks again like he had when she'd straddled him, and pulls them off completely, ignoring her annoyed glare.
She follows him and shifts onto his lap once he'd shed the undershorts, resting lightly on his thighs. She glances from his face to his lap, unsure of what he wanted her to do. He's big - bigger than she'd expected.
"Like I said," Hak murmurs, drawing her eyes back to his. "I'm not going to do anything you're not ready for."
"R-right," Yona says, feeling stupid. She should have known what Hak expected of her. Or, rather, what he didn't.
Hesitantly, Yona reaches forward, brushing her fingertips along the skin of his member, studying it closely for the first time.
It's soft as silk but harder than she'd expected, like the rest of him. The head is swollen and darker than the base, interestingly. Yona glances up to see Hak studying her carefully, his teeth digging into his bottom lip in a way that has to be painful.
Yona straightens and brings her hand up, thumbing his lip until he releases it. She leans in to kiss him, full and inviting, and he goes boneless against her.
"I-I don't know what to do," Yona admits against his lips shyly, feeling her ears heat up.
"Show me?"
Hak groans and closes his eyes, taking her hand in his by instinct rather than sight. He brings her hand down and wraps it around his member, hesitating for a moment before he pumps his hand, taking hers with him.
Yona watches, entranced, as Hak's chest expand, a muscle in his thigh twitching helplessly. She tightens her hand by a fraction and Hak's head falls back, baring his neck to her in a way that's startlingly submissive. Yona can't get enough of it.
"Just like that," he murmurs, sending a shiver up her spine, and she can't tell if it's an instruction or simple encouragement.
Hak's hand falls away when she starts to feel more confident. She doesn't pause her movements, twisting her wrist experimentally as she moves her hand upwards.
Hak hisses between clenched teeth, eyes snapping open to watch her, and Yona drinks in the power she has over him. It's the first real time he's ever been at her mercy, and she loves it.
Wanting to see what other sounds she can force out of him, Yona uses her free hand to brush her thumb over the slit on the head, sweeping over the moisture that's gathered there.
"P-princess," Hak moans, quiet enough not to worry her about someone else hearing. That wouldn't do.
Minutes pass, and she can tell he needs more than the slow strokes she's been stuck to until now. She pumps him quicker, running her hand over everything she can touch, and Hak's fingers scramble to her thighs. In just moments, he's a mess.
"I-Princess, if you - I'm going to-" Yona doesn't slow, just whispers that it's okay, he can let go, and Hak cuts himself off with the loudest noise she's heard him make all night. It's the kind of moan that sets her blood on fire and her heart racing out of her chest.
His release is just as climactic as hers, and Yona can see what all the fuss is about.
Hak's eyes are clenched tightly shut, his lips are parted, and he's panting like he's been running for hours.
Yona doesn't even try to hide the satisfaction she feels for making him come so completely undone.
Hak opens his eyes and immediately pulls her into a kiss, wiping that smug smile right off her face.
"You look a little to happy with yourself," he says when he pulls away, and she smiles. He was one to talk.
"Hush," Yona disagrees, though it's an obvious misdirection.
Hak only rolls his eyes and kisses her again, like he doesn't ever want to stop. Yona can sympathize. It feels right.
And, sitting there, stark naked, the moon serving as their only light, it feels a little bit like truth, and a lot like love.