Fated to Love: a Joseon Love Story
Copyright© 2026 by Megumi Kashuahara
Chapter 11: Maybe, Maybe Not
She came through the door as evening was settling into dark.
Seon was in their sitting room with a governance document that he was not reading. He looked up when she entered and found her standing in the doorway looking at him with an expression he had not seen before — that vampish smile, the hint of something dangerous in her eyes, the composure of someone who had decided to be entirely herself.
“Where have you been?” he asked.
“Visiting the Crown Princess.”
“Jiyeon.”
“Yes.”
He set down his document. “What did you talk about?”
She walked toward him slowly. “Come to bed and find out.”
In their sleeping room the evening light was fading fast. She closed the door and turned to face him.
“Before we start,” he said, “you’re not gonna tie me up or anything are you? I heard Jiyeon is a real sex maniac.”
She laughed. That genuine unguarded laugh he had been hearing for six years. “Maybe. Maybe not. But let’s not rule it out.”
He grinned. “Oh boy. This is gonna be fun.”
“I think so,” she said.
They undressed. Not ceremonially, simply because it was warm and they were about to be close. When they were both bare she took his hand and pulled him toward the bed.
“Sit,” she said.
He sat. She stood in front of him in the dimming light and looked down at him with that vampish smile still in place.
“I learned some things,” she said. “I want to try them.”
“All right.”
She knelt in front of him. Not submissively, but with the confidence of someone who had made a decision about what she wanted to do. She kissed him — her mouth warm, her hands on his shoulders, her body close enough that he could feel the warmth of her skin.
When she pulled back she looked into his eyes. “I’m curious about something.”
“What?”
“How quickly you respond to this.” She moved her mouth down his throat, kissing along his collarbone, her hands moving down his sides. She was paying attention to how his breathing changed, how his body shifted under her mouth.
She moved lower.
She took him in her mouth with no hesitation, no embarrassment — just directness. He made a sound of surprise that became a sound of pleasure. Her mouth was warm and her tongue knew exactly what it was doing. She was learning him the way Jiyeon must have taught her — paying attention to what made him respond, adjusting based on his reactions.
She brought him close. Close enough that he understood where this was going.
Then she pulled back and looked up at him with that smile. “Am I doing this right?”
His breath was not entirely steady. “Yes.”
“Good.” She resumed. This time she took her time, learning the rhythm that made him move his hips toward her, the pressure that made his hands grip the bed. She was making a game of it — bringing him close and pulling back, bringing him close and pulling back, watching his face work through the loss of his composure.
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