The Dying King Asked for a Woman Physician novel · Chapter 4 of 24

Chapter 4: Tae-heon

Ko Dal-su drew the door shut behind him, and the latch fell with a small, final click.

Seo-wan did not move her head from the King's shoulder.

His heart was beating under her ear, and something else was pressing hard against her hip through his robe.

"You're still hard," she said.

"I'm told it passes."

"I'm told you'll need it."

She sat up.

Her hands went to the knot of her jeogori, and she pulled the ribbon slowly, watching his face.

The white jacket fell open.

She shrugged it off her shoulders, and then she undid the skirt, and let it slide in a pool of indigo cloth to the mat.

She wore nothing under it but her cotton chemise.

She pulled that over her head too.

The lamp was behind her.

She knew exactly what it showed him.

Full breasts, a soft stomach, wide hips, and the dark patch between her thighs still wet from his mouth.

She had never once in her life thought of it as something to show.

He sat motionless, and his lips were parted.

"You're," he began, and had to start again. "I did not know that anything could look like that."

"Take your robe off."

He fumbled with the sash, and the robe came off.

He was ready for her, long and flushed and a little shaky.

When she looked at him, he put his hands flat on the mat, afraid to touch her first.

He sat up, took her by the hips and pressed his mouth to the soft skin below her navel.

Then he kissed upward, slow and clumsy and hot, until his lips closed over her nipple.

She gasped and held his head to her chest.

"Harder," she said. "Use your tongue. Yes. Now the other one."

He did.

When he pulled back, her nipples were tight and wet in the lamplight.

He stared at them.

"I have to tell you plainly," said the King. "I've never done this."

"I know."

"I don't want to be bad at it."

"You can't be bad at it. You can only be slow." She smiled at him. "Lie back. Doctor's orders."

He lay back.

She straddled his thighs and wrapped her hand around him, and he hissed.

She stroked him twice, thumbing the slick head.

Then she lifted herself over him, and sank down an inch.

The stretch was hot and sudden.

She stopped, panting, with just the tip inside her.

"Don't move," she said.

"I'm not. I'm not."

His hands were clenched in the bedding, and she saw the veins stand out in his forearms.

His pulse was jumping in his throat.

She took one of his hands and set it on her hip.

"Hold me here."

His fingers closed around her.

She breathed in, and let her weight go, and took him in to the base.

They both made a sound.

He was thick, and it burned for a moment, and then it was only full.

She had never felt so full in her life.

"God," he said.

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