Luhan was enjoying his morning coffee while reading the newspapers. It was a beautiful morning indeed: he’d gone for a run about an hour ago and then taken a shower to wash the steam off. And now he was enjoying his breakfast, trying to stall as much as he could before it was time to go to work.

 

But he felt like there was something missing, though he couldn’t put a finger on it. The smell of coffee was intensive and sobering, but at the same time it was calming and he felt like, if he just closed his eyes for a second, he’d fall asleep right then and there.

 

He looked at the same page of the newspapers over and over again, not truly seeing anything, but he didn’t put them away; for some reason, he felt like he should try his hardest to look as if he was deep in thought, thinking about politics and everyday things married men were supposed to stress about.

 

“Luhannie,” a familiar voice sang from somewhere in the background, and he couldn’t help but smile to himself.

 

A part of him felt as if he was watching a movie, not understanding a single thing that was happening, but somehow he knew exactly what he was doing and why.

 

He cleared his throat and shook the newspapers in his hand, attempting to read the page from the beginning for the millionth time, even though his whole focus was on what was going on somewhere behind his back.

 

“Sweetie, are you still home?” the voice called, and he now bit his lip to keep from laughing, but he somehow persisted. He was a man, and a man would not let himself get carried away so easily.

 

A man would most definitely not let his wife know how much he missed and wanted her in that very moment.

 

These days, he usually left for work before she even woke up, leaving her tangled in the covers as he dressed in his suit, took his suitcase and grabbed something to eat, quickly going out before she had a chance to stop him.

 

But today was different somehow: he didn’t have a meeting before noon, so he could stay for a little bit longer than usual.

 

Not that she had to know.

 

“Oh!” she gasped as she entered the room behind him, seemingly very surprised. “You really are home, sweetie!”

 

Her happy voice and the giggle that followed afterwards made butterflies start flying around his insides. He just raised an eyebrow and pretended to be focused on his newspapers, even though he had no idea if the page that was open was really an article or some advertisement.

 

He couldn’t find a place inside of him that even cared.

 

“What are you doing here so late, sweetheart?” she asked as she went over to him, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Not that I’m complaining, but shouldn’t you be at work?”

 

Luhan turned his head from her, refusing to look at her because if he did, he’d probably be forced to drop the act immediately and he wanted to savor this. “I need to get going in a couple of minutes,” he lied, feigning a cold voice.

 

“Oh,” her voice dropped and she stopped touching him, making his skin crawl because he did not like that. It took everything in him not to pull her into his lap right then and there - for his taste, she was too far away from him already.

 

Then her face was suddenly the only thing he could see in front of himself, and it did not look happy with the newest information. “But couldn’t my Luhannie stay with me for a little while?” Her voice was the most beautiful melody his ears had ever heard. She bit her lips as she looked to the side. “I’ve missed my baby so much…”

 

He couldn’t refrain himself from touching her cheek lightly. “I’m sorry, but I really have to get going. We’ll leave this for another day, what do you think about that?”

 

He was challenging her, and she knew very well that it was a challenge she was supposed to embrace with open arms.

 

She never disappointed; from the first day he’d laid his eyes upon her, throwing rocks around the grassy field and fuming like a volcano about to erupt, he’d known she was very different from all the other girls he’d ever seen.

 

And she was his woman, only his to indulge his wishes and lose himself in.

 

There was a spark in her eyes as she moved slightly away from him so that he could now clearly see that she hadn’t even changed out of the clothes he’d left her in bed in.

 

He narrowed his eyes, enjoying the sight, and he was too distracted to notice that her hand was now resting on his own chest, burning its way through his white button-up shirt.

 

Thankfully, he hadn’t worn the suit jacket, because he would’ve been forced to take it off now, since it was slowly becoming hotter and hotter in their little cozy kitchen.

 

“What do I think about that?” she echoed, her voice seductive and dangerous. She patted his indigo tie and then pulled at it strongly, making him follow it until his face bumped into hers.

 

“I think,” she whispered as she looked at him straight in the eye, “That you won’t be able to get to work in time, Luhannie.”

 

“Oh?” he asked in a flirty voice, raising his eyebrows and resisting the urge to move until his lips were on top of hers. “And why is that?”

 

The hand that was on his tie now rested on his neck, following the path of his Adam’s apple as it bobbed while he gulped.

 

“Well, obviously,” she continued, moving until it was right next to his ear, “Because you’re having some wardrobe problems, sweetheart.”

 

While she spoke her words, making the temperature in the room raise drastically, Luhan felt something seeping onto his brand-new shirt, leaving a hot trail and making him feel even hotter than before.

 

The smell of coffee was all around them, making a mist appear in his mind as everything lost sense but the woman that was touching him, that was destroying him with her feather-light touches.

 

“What kind of a wife would I be if I let you go to work like this, sweetie?” she continued, her hand now smearing the coffee all around his shirt. He felt as if there was no shirt between her hand and his skin; everything was hot and he was slowly losing his patience.

 

She knew she was torturing him by going this slow, slowly oh slowly tracing his abs with that sinful hands while her other hand wound in his hair.

 

He’d styled that hair for almost half an hour, and now she was going to ruin his hairstyle completely and within seconds.

 

He couldn’t find any part of him that actually cared about that either. Hell, he’d let her ravage him to her liking in whichever way she wanted, but he just wished she’d freaking speed up already because he couldn’t take much more of this.

 

“Don’t be silly, sweetheart,” she said and kissed the spot right below his ear that turned him into a puddle on the floor and he finally let out a small whimper.

 

He was a man; but wasn’t it manly to act like this in front of this harpy?

 

Who could even resist this sinful being that slowly but surely found her way into his lap, probably wanting to get all smeared with coffee, too?

 

“You have no idea how expensive this shirt was,” he growled, finally letting himself go as he pulled her into his lap completely, pushing the hand that was trying to sneak into his pants away before things got out of hand.

 

She’d had her fun - now it was his turn to tease and torture.

 

And oh, she’d love every second of it.

 

“And you have no idea how much money my company could lose if I got to work even a single minute late.” He faked an angry voice, making her shiver as she leaned into him. “So what should I do with you now, huh?”

 

She giggled, that shameless witch, when he was dead-serious. She now put both of her hands into his already-ruined hair and whispered, “Punish me.”

 

That was it - he would not control himself anymore. He’d waited too long for this anyway: it’s been what? A day? Two?

 

He remembered every little bit of her body and mind as if they’d never parted in their bed. He remembered the events that took place among those sheets as if they were still searching for each other between them, equally as desperate and insatiable as they were now.

 

His body moved at its own accord, making him pin her to the table where the newspapers lay, forgotten together with his breakfast. Her back hit the table harshly - music to his ears, making the plate jolt and scattering rabbit grass all around it, all around her.

 

Was she doing this on purpose, drugging him with all of these smells? He could barely breathe from the scent of coffee, rabbit grass and now her, her scent all around him as he moved closer to her, still torturing her by not giving her a kiss which she seemed to want as badly as he did, instead finding her neck and latching onto it, never getting tired of exploring the sounds he could get out of her.

 

“Baby,” she whimpered, trying to get him to come back to her but he avoided her, because this was a punishment after all, and she would not have her way.

 

He pressed his whole body against hers, finding her hands with his and pinning her wrists above her head. “You’ve ruined my shirt, and possibly my whole company,” he whispered hotly, keeping his face far above her so that she couldn’t reach it, even though she tried to.

 

Being so much taller than her was such a plus sometimes.

 

“And now I’ll ruin you,” he completed and finally dove in, her lips parting immediately as they kissed.

 

She was so desperate for him, the fire inside of her seemingly burning as hotly as did his own.

 

He did not let her have control for a single moment, though she tried desperately to take it from him as his mouth explored her own, so familiar yet so new and unknown and hot at the same time. He could taste coffee on her, wondering if she’d somehow sneaked a cup earlier without him being aware of it.

 

Realization hit him after a moment, so he pulled away and pinned her more harshly beneath him, his grip on her wrists iron-strong as she tried to pull away from it. “For how long have you been awake?” he questioned curiously, looking straight into the eyes that didn’t have a trace of blue in them anymore - all he could see was raw desire mirroring his in her dilated pupils.

 

She grinned at him like the sneaky witch she was, who’d put him under a spell, making him yearn for her eternally, never able to get enough of her, no matter how much and how often he ravaged her. “I’ve been waiting for hours,” she hummed against his lips, “Because I couldn’t take this anymore. I miss you so much, Luhannie.”

 

The way she said his name… It did things to him, making goosebumps appear all over his back and he shuddered, closing his eyes for a second.

 

“I’ve decided to wait for you as long as I had to today,” she continued, “Because I’m far more important than that stupid work of yours.”

 

His heart was beating fast in his ears and he felt light-headed all of a sudden, not sure how she was doing this to him, how she was stripping him down to just his instincts and nothing more, but unable to draw away from this sweet hell that she was taking him towards.

 

“I want you, Luhannie,” she said, and his grip on her wrists loosened, which she immediately used to her advantage.

 

Instead of diving for his lips, though, she followed a hot trail down his neck as he let her turn them around, her legs on either side of him as her eyes looking at him spoke more than words would ever be able to convey.

 

Luhan was a man, but a man would let his woman take control every once in a while, just to see whether she’d learned her lesson by now and decided not to push it too far, not to try to take away everything all at once.

 

She’d never learn her lesson, he knew, unable to move his eyes away from the woman with flushed cheeks looking at him so hungrily. She sat up, her hands finding his tie once again as she pulled it lightly, to his uttermost surprise.

 

“We wouldn’t want to ruin this expensive tie, too, now wouldn’t we?” she sang, raising her eyebrows at him multiple times. His breathing was suspended, and he couldn’t focus on anything but trying to find out what the goal of this raging-hot fire in front of him was.

 

He wanted to ravage her thoroughly, but it seemed like today, she was too desperate to let him do that, so he kept silent as she undid his tie and threw it away with a giggle, making his whole body burn ever more for her touch.

 

“And we wouldn’t want this shirt to get even more messed up, wouldn’t we?” She continued, now gripping the collar of his shirt tightly, leaning down to kiss his Adam’s apple again.

 

Luhan struggled to stay in control of his body, to not jump up and turn them around again, finally doing what his body was screaming at him to do for ages now. But he stayed still somehow, his hands forming fists as he struggled to breathe without .

 

She leaned away from him, tilted her head and smiled at him sweetly, as if forgetting about their situation for a second. He saw the woman he’d fallen in love with, her curls wild and messy and her face soft and full of love and understanding for him.

 

Then a spark appeared in her eyes again, and the top button of his shirt got ripped away.

 

“Whoops!” she said through a giggle, her face seemingly completely innocent. “It fell off on its own!”

 

Like hell it did.

 

Then she leaned in again and kissed the newly-uncovered space at the top of his chest. Luhan already felt as if someone was frying him in a pan and she’d barely begun this game.

 

But he would withstand this, because he was a man, and he would not let her know how much this was affecting him and clouding his judgement.

 

Meanwhile, her hands traced the hem of his shirt, moving further down and to her next obstacle - the second button keeping his shirt in place.

 

It was an expensive shirt alright, but if she’d do this to every expensive shirt he bought, he’d keep buying them forever.

 

She plucked the next button off his shirt and it flew away, glass crashing somewhere in the distance, but they did not care. Even if the whole place was on fire, he wasn’t sure if they’d notice. Hell, he’d burn with the house if it was her touch lighting the fire like it was now, leaning down again to kiss the newly bare space and Luhan felt as if the whole path she’d kissed down his body was really burning.

 

She continued down her path painfully slowly, but Luhan knew that she would not be able to do something so repetitive so many times, even though he would’ve been perfectly fine with that. He’d slowly started panting, still not letting out a whimper but slowly coming undone because she was getting closer and closer to his stomach and the space below.

 

No, he wasn’t slowly coming undone - she’d undid him the moment she’d spilled that coffee all over his shirt and the fire would not come out until she kissed it away.

 

They didn’t say You fight fire with fire for nothing, anyway. And man, did he have a fire to burn out and a fire to burn it out with.

 

When Lamiya got to the top of his stomach, she made a sound of disapproval and bit her lip again, not looking up at him. “Ah, this is such a shame,” she tsked, “The coffee got through the shirt and all over your stomach.”

 

He’d expected for her to do something, but he did not know what exactly she was aiming at.

 

Then he heard the sound of buttons getting ripped, flying away like little projectiles, and more coffee got spilled on his stomach - where did she even get all that coffee from? - so she hurried to pick it all up with , moving down and down his abs as the coffee slipped further down his stomach.

 

He lost the game.

 

She was usually obsessed with his abs, and he was equally obsessed with the feeling of her worshipping them. He could not take it anymore so he moaned obscenely and started to get up, wanting for her to be much closer to him and with much, much less clothes on.

 

She tsked again, shaking her head at him as she gave him a dangerous look, a grin on her face and coffee smeared all around and on her lips as she traced them with her tongue.

 

He was going to snap soon, but for now he could do nothing but whimper weakly as he gave her a little bit more control.

 

But she was like that; she did not care that he was a man or that the control was his to have. She’d keep taking and taking until he couldn’t take any more and make him do things to her that were very unnecessary.

 

The worst thing was, she knew all of this and she was provoking him on purpose, wanting for him to snap and take control once again, because she was a woman after all, and as much as they loved taking control, it was in their blood to be controlled instead.

 

Seeing that he was still going to comply with her wishes and probably enjoying the martyred expression on his face while he raked his hands through his hair, desperately trying not to begin panting or letting out the obscene sounds but being unable to, Lamiya continued down her trail of fire.

 

His shirt was now completely ed, with most of the buttons scattered somewhere around the kitchen, and she expertly kissed all over his ribs while her fingers traced oh so sinfully along his coffee-smeared abs. She then raised her head to look at him, taking a bit of leftover coffee on her finger and tracing it along her lips, making a sound so sinful and seductive that his hips started moving on their own accord, lifting from the table slightly as he bucked and whimpered.

 

She was a sin. And she was his wife, though he had no idea what he’d done to deserve her.

 

“Lamiya,” he pleaded, his hands wounding in her hair as she kept going lower and lower. He was begging her for something, but whether it was to stop or continue, he did not know.

 

He did not know anything but her fiery lips that seemed to have gotten enough of his abs for now and that started venturing lower and lower, slowly but surely, and the real torture began.

 

He would not rush her - he would never rush her, instead letting her dictate her own pace, but as a consequence he was a broken mess that looked nothing like a true man but instead like a coward who’d let himself get undone by the simplest of touches from this harpy.

 

How could she do this to him? How could she smile as her hands settled on his hips and he was so painfully aware of how much shorter than him she was, their legs entangled at the cold table?

 

How could her eyes reflect the enjoyment she felt from getting these sounds out of him, from making him whisper her name over and over again as a silent worship and pleading, begging her to never stop?

 

Luhan was a man, and he never felt more like one than when he was with her.

 

“Luhannie,” she sighed as her hands painfully and playfully traced the hem of his suit pants - was she going to ruin them, too?

 

To hell with his pants - he just wanted them to be together now without any clothes constricting their movements.

 

His hips bucked again, and she raised an eyebrow. “Excited, are we?” she said through a giggle, her hands undoing his belt, and he couldn’t hold out any longer.

 

He wished he was sorry, but he wasn’t, because he’d shown a sheer amount of control already and she should’ve been thankful that it’d lasted for as long as it did.

 

She did not expect him to snap now; he knew what kind of game she was playing in her head and what exactly she wanted to do after that belt was undone, and he was not going to fall for it.

 

He’d fallen for it too many times already.

 

Within a second she was pinned beneath him again, and he heard the sound of his breakfast plate falling to the ground, a new round of the rabbit grass’ scent washing over the two of them.

 

“My turn,” he whispered hotly, his fingers playing with the strap of her too-tight and too-small top which she wore to bed because she claimed it “got hot in there too often.”

 

Oh, he’d give her hot and make her feel sorry for teasing him for such a long time and in such sinful ways.

 

He kissed her roughly and now she was the one who whimpered, turning into a mush beneath him immediately, as if she was tired from playing the game for such a long time, too.

 

That silly woman. He did not care about the game at all - all he cared about was getting her out of that baby top without which she looked far better, if you asked him.

 

But since she was so cruel to ruin his expensive shirt that he’d actually liked and wanted to wear often, he decided to play the game for a little while too. His lips left hers as he looked into her desperate eyes. “Wouldn’t it be a shame to ruin this top you’re wearing?” he hummed.

 

She whimpered, her hands pulling him by the back of his head, because she was getting impatient now and just wanting to get on with it already, but he had other plans.

 

“I think it would be a shame if I didn’t ruin it,” he said, biting her ear gently as he pulled the straps harshly and the sound of ripping fabric echoed through the room.

 

Soon enough, his wife was shivering beneath him, only her bra left intact - but he would correct that mistake soon enough.

 

She seemed to know what he was thinking, because she guided his hands to her back so that he could unclasp it instead of ruining it - he knew this was her favorite, black lace covering everything but leaving nothing to the imagination, and he agreed silently, losing patience as the bra was thrown away and she was bare in front of him, and pressing into him and-

 

“Lu?” a familiar voice said from the distance, but Lu wanted to stay with Lamiya in their house, wanting to finally get lost in her because it’d been so long already-

 

“Wake up, Lu,” the voice persisted, and the image in his head slowly perished as he was brought back to the real world.

 

He struggled to understand that it had all been a dream and that Lamiya wasn’t really below him, that they weren’t really married and happy and that reality was completely different.

 

“He’s waking up!” another voice said cheerfully, and his eyes fluttered. Why did his body feel so heavy? He felt as if he weighed tons…

 

He slowly remembered everything that had happened, the insane Lamiya seducing him and then taking his energy from him expertly, but leaving his powers intact. He also hazy remembered Aya asking about her, but it looked too scattered for him to be able to comprehend it completely.

 

But it had all been a dream.

 

Luhan wanted to fall asleep again, but he knew such a thing was impossible, because his friends were calling for him, needing his help he didn’t know if he had the strength to give.

 

And she was not his. She had never been his in the first place.

 

But as he opened his eyes to a worried Xiumin, a scared Jongin and a cheerful Chen, he wished they’d never woken up in this horrible world where he was only a tool for her to exact whatever revenge she was set on.

 

Oh, he’d known that it wasn’t true from the very first moment - her thoughts were too collected for someone who claimed that Luhan was her true love, but he’d wanted to believe in the lie so desperately and pretend that she was really his at least for a moment.

 

He wished that he could fall asleep again, but this time so deeply that nobody would ever be able to wake him up again.

 

Even as he got up groggily and the dream disappeared from his mind, his head clearing up completely, he could not get the scent of coffee and rabbit grass out of his nose.

 

And the scent of her mixing up with it, the scent he would never be able to own and the eyes that would never look at him with love and call him Luhannie warmly.

 

But his own eyes would, even as he tried to mask his desire while watching her falling in love with him again, though their memories were erased.

 

She was never meant for him.

 

But he loved her more than anything in the world anyway.