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After a record-shattering performance in Stark Arena, Seol Hee—better known by her stage name, Luna Snow—stood beneath the flood of lights, her voice still echoing in the roaring chants of thousands. She dipped into a bow, letting the applause wash over her, her heart swelling with gratitude. As the curtain finally fell, she slipped backstage, her smile never dimming as she clasped hands with her backup dancers, thanked the production crew, and exchanged quick embraces with the people who had helped shape the spectacle.
Yet even in that ocean of faces, one stood apart. A lone figure backstage had anchored her gaze. Illyana Rasputin leaned casually against a wall, watching with an expression that Seol knew well, lustful. Seol couldn’t help but walk towards her, noting her attire. A black crop top revealed a torso as if sculpted from marble, every line honed and deliberate. Tight jeans hugged her frame, a studded belt hanging at an angle like it couldn’t quite decide whether to restrain her or free her. Even in the heavy shadows of the arena, she had worn reflector sunglasses, the lenses catching every glint of light like a pair of stars.
For a fleeting moment, Seol wasn’t thinking about the stage, or the record she had just broken. She was thinking about Illyana, and what she was going to do to her.
Seol approached her, Illyana stood waiting, tall enough that Seol instinctively tilted her chin upward to meet her gaze. The K-pop star’s usual confidence faltered for the briefest moment, replaced by a flutter in her chest she couldn’t quite control.
“You enjoy the show?” Seol asked, her voice lighter than she intended, softened by the smile tugging at her lips.
“You know I did,” Illyana replied with a low chuckle. She reached out, slipping a finger beneath Seol’s chin, tilting it up as she leaned forward. The boldness of the gesture, the closeness, sent a rush of heat to Seol’s cheek.
Her instincts betrayed her before the kiss could land, she pulled back, color blooming across her face. Illyana’s expression shifted, her amusement shading into faint annoyance, as if she were unaccustomed to being denied by Seol.
“Not here,” Seol whispered quickly, her voice hushed but firm. “In my dressing room.”
Illyana arched a brow, lips curving into something between a smirk and a pout. “Oh, come on. It’s just a kiss.”
“I know,” Seol admitted, eyes flicking away before returning to Illyana’s. “But I also know how you get…carried away.”
Seol then pointed at Illyana’s jeans, revealing a very noticeable bulge. Illyana shifted her stance, the faintest smirk tugging at her lips as her gaze flicked downward, then back to Seol. “You smell nice,” she murmured, her voice low and rough around the edges. “What can I say?”
Seol’s heart skipped, but she steadied herself, slipping her fingers through Illyana’s. Without another word, she tugged her toward the dressing room, each step deliberate.
When they arrived, two security guards straightened immediately. One of them frowned as Seol gestured for them to clear out.
“But we have to protect you in case anything happens,” he insisted, bewildered.
Seol met his concern with calm certainty. “It’s fine. I’ll be safe.”
Before the guard could argue again, Illyana leaned against the doorframe, amusement sparking in her eyes. “Trust me,” she drawled, her accent curling over the words, “she’s in very safe hands.”
The guards caught one last glimpse, a devilish smirk flashing across Illyana’s face, before Seol pulled her inside. The heavy door slammed shut, cutting off the world beyond.
With ease, Illyana swept Seol up, pressing her against the wall. The suddenness of the motion stole the breath from Seol’s chest, leaving only the heat of the moment. Their lips crashed together, fierce and consuming, every kiss a battle for dominance.
Seol’s fingers slid into Illyana’s golden hair, tugging, scratching lightly at her scalp, drawing a low growl from the sorceress. The sound vibrated between them, primal and unrestrained, as if Illyana’s composure was already unraveling in Seol’s hands.
She broke the kiss only long enough to breathe out, her voice ragged with urgency.
“Seol…you have no idea how much I need you right now.”
Illyana’s arousal pressed tight against the confines of her jeans, straining against the button as though desperate to break free. Seol’s eyes flicked down, her lips curving into a knowing smile. She slipped from Illyana’s hold with deliberate slowness, her hands gliding along the sorceress’s toned midsection as she slid down her body.
By the time Seol sank to her knees, Ilyana grin had sharpened into something wickedly confident. Seol looked up through her lashes, fingers brushing the waistband as if savoring the moment before undoing the clasp.
“Finally,” Illyana growls.
Her cock freed at last, the heavy strain gave way to a shuddering relief. Seol had seen it countless times before, yet the sight never failed to steal her breath. The size of it always left her fingers struggling to close around the breadth, her chilled touch drawing a sharp hiss from Illyana. The contrast of warmth in her member and cold rippled through her, easing tension in waves that promised release but left her hungering for more.
Seol leaned in slowly, pressing the softest kiss to the very tip, her blue lipstick marking it like a signature. She trailed those kisses along the length, each one a deliberate stroke of devotion that painted Illyana in her colors.
Illyana’s breath caught, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip as she braced herself against the wall, forehead pressed to her arm.
The teasing ended in a slow surrender. Seol parted her lips and welcomed her, the weight and heat of her cock filling her mouth almost beyond what she could manage. She eased forward, taking as much as she dared, her chilled breath contrasting sharply with the fevered skin against her tongue.
Her rhythm found its pulse, steady, deliberate while her free hand slipped beneath her shorts, fingers moving with the urgency she denied her mouth. Above her, Illyana braced herself, a flush rising to her cheeks as she watched. The sight alone was nearly as overwhelming as the sensation.
“Look at me,” Illyana groaned, her voice roughened by restraint.
Seol obeyed, her wide eyes rising to meet hers, a spark of defiance and devotion burning all at once as she kept moving, the connection between them intensifying until it felt impossible to tell who was devouring whom.
“When I was at your concert,” Illyana murmured, her smirk curling wider as her hand slid behind Seol’s head, “I overheard a couple of guys wondering what it would be like to have you.” Her tone dropped, teasing and cruel all at once. “If only they knew their little fantasy idol is on her knees, savoring me.”
She guided Seol closer, inch by inch, letting the pressure build. Seol’s muffled sounds vibrated against her, her lips parting wider, her throat working to take her in. The struggle only deepened the pleasure, Illyana’s breath coming harsher as she felt her dominance answered by Seol’s surrender.
“I think that’s what makes this sweeter,” Illyana murmured, her tone wicked. “Knowing every fan out there pines for you…while I’m the one who knows your taste, your sounds, the way you melt for me. And the best part—” she grins, “—you wouldn’t want it from anyone else.”
Seol’s lips stretched around her, every inch claimed until there was nothing left to give. Her throat strained, eyes glistening as her breath hitched, devotion and desperation in her expression. Illyana held her there, savoring the sight and the chill of her throat, before finally easing back.
Her length slipped free, glistening with Seol’s work. Seol gasped for air, strands of breathless sound escaping her throat, but her hand never faltered, still stroking, still offering.
Illyana’s smirk deepened, her voice amused. “Guess I do get carried away.”
She then takes note of Seol’s hand in her shorts, frantically playing with herself. Seol couldn’t even try to hide her heat, she looked completely different from the star that was dancing on stage not too long ago. Illyana takes her by the hand that was on her shaft, lifting her up and giving her another kiss.
Illyana’s tongue dominated the kiss, fierce and unyielding, until Seol felt as though her own body was no longer hers but something claimed, something used however Illyana pleased.
The sorceress broke away, her hand closing firmly around Seol’s face, forcing her to look up. “Say it.”
Seol’s breath shivered. “Say what…?”
“Say what you want,” Illyana hissed, her voice sharp as a blade. “Say it, and I’ll give it to you.” With one brutal tug, Seol’s shorts were yanked down, crumpling at her ankles before she had time to move.
Still, Seol only laughed, eyes flashing with defiance. “I don’t know,” she teased, “maybe I’m already satisfied.”
The smirk was gone in an instant. Illyana’s fingers drove into her without hesitation, curling deep, forcing a gasp from the idol as she buckled back against the wall. Her glare burned hotter, relentless, every motion punishing and precise.
“Cut the bratty act,” Illyana growled, her pace quickening. “You know I hate it. And don’t think you can play games with me—” her lips twisted into a dark smile, “—not when I’m still wet with your mouth all over me.”
Seol was already trembling, slick against Illyana’s relentless hand, yet she still clung to her defiance. “I only felt bad…” she gasped between moans. “You get so moody, I thought maybe if I gave you a blowjob—”
Her words were cut off in an instant. Illyana’s hand shot to her throat, tightening until sound became impossible. Seol’s eyes widened, breath strangled, her body caught helplessly between pleasure and restraint.
Illyana’s fingers never slowed. Each thrust was harder, deeper, her grip on Seol’s neck commanding her silence. Seol’s knees buckled, her weight collapsing, but Illyana held her upright as if she were nothing more than a plaything to be used until the end.
The breaking point came like a storm. A raw moan tore free despite the grip on her throat, her body shuddering violently as release ripped through her. Only then did Illyana let go, and Seol crumpled to the floor, gasping for air, undone in every sense of the word.
Illyana’s gaze lingered on Seol, her expression shadowed, a dangerous edge simmering beneath her calm. She knew exactly what Hee was doing, baiting her, trying to spark that ruthless side and it worked. A faint, wicked smirk tugged at Illyana’s lips as she peeled her top away and kicked her pants down in one deliberate motion.
Seol tilted her head up from the floor, still catching her breath, and her eyes widened at the sight before her. Illyana stood over her, eyes glowing a fierce, hellish red, her arousal heavy and pulsing with need.
“Is this what you wanted?” Illyana’s voice was low, almost a growl, her hand brushing lazily across herself as if daring Seol to answer wrong.
Despite the trembling in her legs, Seol’s grin spread slow and cocky. She nodded, unbothered, like she was the one in control.
It happened almost instantly, Illyana bent Seol over the vanity, forcing her to stare into her own reflection. Her flushed face, her parted lips, her glassy eyes…every ounce of lust laid bare. Behind her, Illyana’s hips smacked hard and fast, the sound of clapping echoing through the spacious room as her rhythm grew quicker and relentless.
When Seol’s arm buckled toward the table for support, Illyana fisted a hand in her hair and yanked her head up, making sure she watched every second of her own undoing.
“This—” Illyana hissed, dragging her tongue across Seol’s cheek, “—this is the Seol I know.”
Despite the chill in the air, Seol burned hotter than ever. Seeing herself unravel, feeling Illyana drive so deep her stomach tightened and her vision blurred, she couldn’t hold it. Her legs trembled violently, buckling as another orgasm tore through her, leaving her twitching against the glass.
Illyana laughed darkly at the sight. “Twice already? I haven’t even had one orgasm.”
In another blink, Seol found herself pressed to the floor, knees curling toward her now revealed chest as Illyana moved above her. Every motion sent a tremor through her body, leaving her breath ragged and her heart hammering.
Her chest rose and fell, every glance catching the glint of her lover’s intent eyes. Illyana’s grunts filled the space, a rhythmic sound to the overwhelming heat of the moment. Seol’s hands trembled, unable to steady herself, sweat pearling along her skin from the previous rounds of exertion.
Illyana leaned down, voice low and teasing. “Got something you wanna say?”
Seol shook her head, breathless, lips parting with no words forming.
“Oh, don’t get shy now,” Illyana murmured, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “I’d love to hear it.”
Still, Seol only shook her head, wide-eyed and gasping.
A slow, wicked smile curved Illyana’s lips. “Maybe I should stop…” She began to ease back, testing her control.
“PLEASE,” Seol’s voice cracked, desperation breaking through. “Please don’t…”
“That’s what I thought,” Illyana murmured with a low laugh, leaning down to press her lips against Seol’s. Their kiss was fierce, demanding, a collision of heat and urgency that left Seol trembling beneath her.
Every motion from Illyana was deliberate, a rhythm that built with a feral intensity. Seol gasped, pressed against her, every shiver and moan mirrored in Illyana’s growls and the sharp glint in her eyes.
Finally, Illyana let herself release the tension that had been coiling since the moment she saw Seol; spilling over in a rush of need. She stayed close, letting Seol feel every pulse of her seed flooding her insides. Before slowly pulling back, savoring the aftermath spilling out of her Seol.
Panting, she sank to the floor beside her, still staring down at Seol. “Not too bad,” she said with a smirk, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. “Though I wish I could’ve reached the record.”
Seol tried to rise, but her limbs refused to obey. Instead, she laughed softly, eyes sparkling despite the exhaustion. “We can try after I’m done with my tour,” she teased, still lying there, utterly spent but entirely satisfied.
Illyana reached for her pants, pulling out a small box of cigarettes and a lighter. With practiced ease, she held one between her lips and flicked the flame, the smoke curling into the air like a soft exhale of satisfaction. After an hour of intense sex, nothing could touch this calm, this victory.
A knock suddenly came at the door. Seol’s eyes flicked toward Illyana, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Don’t do it,” she warned.
Illyana’s smirk never wavered as she sauntered toward the door, nude and unapologetic. She opened it to find Seol’s manager standing there, arms full of food and water for the exhausted idol. The manager’s expression flickered from relief to confusion, caught off guard by Illyana’s unabashed presence and lingering arousal.
She peered inside, searching for Seol, but Illyana leaned forward just enough to block the view, snatching the food. “Thank you,” she said smoothly, “I think we’ll be needing this.”
“Um…you’re welcome,” the manager stammered, eyes darting between Illyana and the room behind her. “Where’s Seol?”
“Busy,” Illyana replied, taking a slow drag from her cigarette, her voice low and cutting. “Fuck off.”
With that, she closed the door, leaving the manager blinking in stunned silence.