Your breasts were bare, your bra having been yanked down beneath them to reveal plump skin and puckered nipples. His wine-stained tongue and lips swirled and suckled along one peak, following the trail of the rich wine he'd intentionally dribbled moments ago.

You watched as the deep burgundy bled into the lace of your skewed bra, traveling across the delicate pattern with a laziness reflected by that of the man hovering over you.

Your chest was rising and falling rapidly as your body began to spark to life again though he'd only just given you an orgasm. His long tapered digits, somehow always cool to the touch, knew how to coax every mewl, every cry of his name, and every twinge of hips from you. What was worse was how effortless he had made it all look.

He'd come into the room earlier, relaxed from the wine flowing through his veins, cheeks flushed, and eager to play. It was only a matter of minutes before he'd divested you of most of your garments and was kneeling between your legs on the bed, all while never once setting down the damned wine stemware in his hand.

He had looked positively sinful. Though you were near-stripped of all clothes, he remained in his slacks slung low on his hips, tie tossed to the floor, dress shirt fully unbuttoned for your gazing pleasure. His raven hair fell across his brow and into his lashes slightly obscuring his bedroom eyes. He'd allowed you to run your fingers down his chest and across his abdomen once, pressing and dipping into the contours of his muscles, before throwing a passive smirk at you and giving you a gentle nudge that had you falling onto your back across the bed. He watched you bounce a few times before your body came to a full stop atop the mattress and brought the glass to his lips, tilting it back with all the grace of an aristocrat, to take a sip of the dark fluid.

His eyes continued to rake over your semi-naked form as he swallowed the wine thickly, his Adam's apple bobbing in the long expanse of his throat. He was far from drunk but the wine had certainly done its magic in making him… loose.

Just the way he looked at you was enough to have heat spread across your body, making your limbs heavy. Your heart sped up. Your cunt clenched.

He had taken a few more sips of his wine, trilling his tongue in his mouth for a few seconds before he swallowed. He'd told you once it helped to open the bouquet of flavors. He only ever did it when starting a new wine flavor and with how relaxed he had already appeared this easily suggested it was the start of his second bottle of the night.

Loose indeed.

He'd started with trailing his fingers over your body, tickling and pinching at the skin that made you squirm for him. His mouth had followed soon after, lewdly licking and nipping at his favorite soft spots along you. Words weren't shared, only your soft moans and whines saturating the air in combination with the sounds of his mouth. It should have irritated you that every few licks he would lean up to take a sip of wine before dipping back down to resume his ministrations… but it didn't. When his tongue returned to caress you it was always slightly cooler, chilled from the wine, as it lavished you.

The hand that hadn't been holding his precious wine began to join the dance again. You'd cried out for him, spreading your legs wider and rolling your hips as his hand inched lower and lower until finally he pressed the heel of his palm against you. He had leant back on his knees between your legs again, content to simply watch as you tried oscillating your hips against his palm to satisfy the ache he had induced.

He wasn't entirely cruel, a firm press of his own here, a soft roll against your clitoris there, until you had finally resorted to begging.

"Juuumin… please… I…" Your body and voice had both trembled but you knew what your wanton tone did to him, especially when you said his name.

His eyes cleared up a little, the tugs of tipsy fogginess dissipating as his pupils widened further with lust and adrenaline. He took an unexpected plentiful gulp from his wine glass, the contents of which were suddenly becoming dangerously low, before he'd taken over making you come apart.

His fingers had been quick, skillful, and almost clinical as they worked on and in you, but that didn't make it feel any less mind-blowing. You couldn't even bring yourself to care that he almost looked uninterested as he watched, the blush on his cheeks likely from the liquor, and continued to sip at his wine as you panted and keened below him. Closing your eyes, you allowed yourself to just feel the pressure and massage of his fingers as you came apart for him, hips leaving the bed entirely as your orgasm ripped through you. Had his second hand been free, he would have held you still, but tonight it appeared he was content to hurriedly follow and weave with the wild wave of your hips, his fingers buried deep inside, wine sloshing in his glass as he dove to stay connected to you.

Coming down from bliss you caught sight of Jumin sitting back on his haunches, licking his fingers clean before washing it down with another swig of the spirits. He gave a low noise of appreciation after swallowing, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment to savor.

Though his lips and tongue had literally been all over you already, you found yourself feeling jealous of both the wine and the glass that held it in the current moment. He had yet to even give you a proper kiss…

"Jumin," You sounded far too breathy when he still seemed so unaffected, the only hint at his interest the noticeable bulge underneath his slacks. He flicked his eyes to you, once again glossy with a relaxed content gaze.

"Why don't you set the glass down so I can repay the favor?" Your voice was coy as you let your bare foot travel up the length of his clothed thigh to lightly brush between his legs. Idly his hand caught your ankle in a firm hold and held your foot in place as he gently rocked his hips against the sole of it, a soft sigh leaving his lips.

"This is the port, dear." Even his voice sounded far too steady and unaffected for the bedroom even though he was currently grinding against your foot.

Of course. The port.

You could feel yourself roll your eyes exaggeratedly, silently hoping he'd see it, as you allowed your leg to go limp and fall once again at his side. He'd told you about this supposed wonderful port wine. He had explained its appeal in great detail - it's flavor, it's age, the correct temperature it should be served at, the appropriate glass…

When you chanced to look at him you found him smirking down at you.

"Just now, I was contemplating which flavor I enjoyed more," his voice had gone huskier in a matter of seconds, the timbre effectively sending a shiver through you.

Suddenly the fingers of his free hand swiped up your sex catching remnants of your orgasm on the tips as you jerked and gasped at the contact. Holding your gaze, he brought his fingers to his lips to suck on them, pulling your flavor onto his tongue, swallowing, and groaning.

"Both sweet." He tipped the glass against his lips again. Another taste of wine. Another appreciative groan.

"Both rich." You were entranced as he languidly leant over you fully again, the edges of his open shirt brushing against your front as he got closer. The hand holding the wine glass somehow managing to hold both his weight where he pressed into the bed beside your head, all the while delicately maintaining the glass in an upright position.

With his free hand, his open palm slid up the side of your body along your curves, firm and sure in his caress, until he reached your chest and slipped the cup of your bra down. Your breast jiggled slightly with the motion of being released from its confines until Jumin's hand cupped the round flesh and squeezed none too gently, your nipple poking between his digits. You bit your lower lip to hold back the moan that threatened to spill from you.

If he could manage to not spill, so could you.

"Both… full-bodied." His voice had become a provocative whisper, deep and seductive enough to have your cunt clenching again, arousal spilling from you with a slow involuntary roll of your hips.

So much for not spilling.

"I can't seem to decide," he had given another tender squeeze of your breast, "which is more appealing." He licked his lips as he stared at you, your eyes catching the action and off-handedly noting for the first time the discoloration of his lips; a slightly deeper red hue due to the stain of the wine.

His hand left you quickly, a question fleeting across your mind before it went blank as nimble fingers swept between your legs once more and dipped into you with effortless finesse. He stroked you briefly, smirking as he watched your eyes flutter shut, your lips puckering into an O as your hips began to wiggle in tandem with his probing.

It was over all too briefly as he extracted his fingers, your eyes flashing open in annoyance at how easily he teased, and brought them up to hover just above your lips. Two innocent fingers shined with your slick arousal. You must have taken too long for his liking because not one second later he dropped his fingers to tap twice gently against your lips, remnants of your sex deposited on them, a silent command to open your mouth for him.

You smirked up at him as you obliged, your lips parting slightly, head raising to take his fingers into your mouth. His close-lipped smile became more broad when you complied, wiggling his fingers in your mouth as your tongue traced along and between them. You applied a light suction, pulling your arousal off his skin and trying to commit to memory the flavor.

Jumin gave a light groan, his weight shifting slightly as he weaved over you. With one final swipe of your tongue against the soft pad of his finger you allowed your head to fall back onto the pillow, licked your lips and stared up at him. He dropped his fist onto the other side of your head, his hair falling forward to the point of almost brushing against your cheeks. His jaw clenched for a moment before he fisted the sheet next to your head.

In one fluid movement he'd brought the glass to his lips again and gulped down a swallow; it no longer held enough wine for more than a few tiny sips.

Promptly, he leant in and pressed his lips to yours, snagging your lower lip between his own and licking across it. It was the contact you'd been wanting from him all night. Your hands shot up, fingers of one hand twisting into raven locks and pressing him to you, the other hand coiling around the firm bicep of one of his arms holding him above you.

He hummed with delight into your mouth when you opened your lips for him, his tongue swept across yours in less of a kiss and more of an act depositing the spirits flavor unto you, forcing you to taste.

He'd been right. The wine was thick and rich, a delicious blend of chocolate and raspberry flavors that suggested the wine's sophistication. Your own tang mingled with the sweet bouquet, contrasting but not altogether unpleasant to your own palate. The usual natural flavor of his saliva that you'd expected was obscured to the foreign clashing aromas, but you still felt yourself falling further into the kiss; the textured brush of tongues, the easy press and glide of lips, the hitch of his breath. His groan broke over you, his body trembling in the slightest, as you sucked on his tongue eagerly, pulling more of him into your mouth and extracting the essences he was so intent on you sampling.

With a final press of his tongue against yours, as if licking the taste back, he pulled away with a shaky exhale, lips falling to your jaw to begin a series of hot open-mouthed caresses - down your neck, across your collar bone, to the swell of your breasts. A path of blemishes would bloom later, that much was certain.

A trembling hand that belied his calm appearance pulled down the second cup restraining your breast before lips dove for a dusky peak. You cooed for him as he suckled you, your hips swiveling lower down on the bed as a new ache began to develop. Your fists wove and tug on the fabric of his open shirt, impatient for more - of him, of his touch, of anything he was willing to give.

Mischief flashed in his eyes as he used his teeth to tweak your nipple before soothing the pain with a swirl of his tongue. His vision flashed momentarily to the glass still held upright in his hand beside you and a smug grin fell into place along his features before he pulled up from your breast with a deliciously lewd pop.

Not a moment later had he raised the glass and tipped it over your chest, sending a syrupy line of cool burgundy down your nipple and falling down the slope of your breast. The cold liquid left you gasping, goose-prickles blossoming and trailing after it across the expanse of your bust. An almost giddy-smile lit up Jumin's features as he took the plunge, tongue out to quickly lick a hot route up your breast to catch the wayward wine.

That's how you found yourself where you were now.

The blissful look on his face showed he was clearly enjoying this development immensely. He pressed a rapid series of kisses down your sternum, humming and sucking on skin along the way, traveling lower still to the level of your stomach.

A quick tip of the glass had a few drops of wine spilling onto you. You flinched as the still cold liquid hit your flushed skin and slipped into your navel. You squirmed and moaned when Jumin's scorching hot tongue dove in a breath later to lap it up. The plays at temperature were wreaking havoc on your nerves, shocking and thrilling you at once. His tongue so close to your aching center had you rolling your hips and twisting beneath him.

He played his mouth along your stomach, broad licks smearing the syrup of wine into your skin before sucking remnants off, the tip of his hair tickling your belly as he weaved with his head bent in concentration.

It was all too much and at the same time not enough.

Your fingers found his hair again, gently threading through the strands. You gave a firm push lower, accentuated by the slow rise of your hips from the bedding.

He rose his face to look at you, eyes less clouded by his previous tipsiness, sinful smile in place. He clasped the wrist of the hand holding his hair and extracted your fingers as a chuckle rumbled through him.

A warm kiss pressed to your inner wrist, "Patience, my darling. Wine should be," he ran the edge of his teeth across the skin there before ghosting a flick of his tongue, "savored."

Interlacing your fingers with his, he continued to busy himself with bestowing kisses, bites, and suckles along your abdomen, delighting himself in your mewls and undulations.

It felt like ages before he finally began to finally shift lower, the smile on his face growing, kisses becoming sloppy and more hurried, as your moans got louder for him.

He pulled his head up from you entirely before his eyes snapped up to look directly at you. His lips were puffy, parted, and stained beautifully. He was panting softly, drunk on lust more than wine. You must have looked lewd, naked save for the skewed and now soiled bra, wanton and writhing, slick and sticky. His eyes drank you in as they roved over you, a satisfied glimmer flicking in their depths.

He raised the glass in his hand, eyeing the last dregs before cocking an eyebrow in your direction and smiling devilishly. It wasn't until he poised the glass between your legs that you figured out his intentions, your brain having become foggy from sensation and want.

Everything this man did was unexpected and here he was, about to pour the most expensive wine he owned on your –

Ah!

The chill struck across the blistering heat of your cunt, drops of syrupy liquor rolling down your folds. Quicker than he'd been all evening, Jumin dropped the now empty glass onto the bed where it rolled and pressed to your side. His once previously engaged hand vehemently grabbed your hip and angled you upwards before he lowered himself to plunge his tongue between your legs.

At his first broad frantic lick up your sex, your spine snapped back, arcing your body clear off the sheets. One hand found his hair again, grabbing a fistful and tugging, while the other released his own fingers to slap across your mouth in vain attempt to muffle the scream that tore through you.

With his second hand now free he gripped your other hip as well, pulling your lower body harder against his mouth and groaning.

Your legs trembled and jerked beside his head as he went about savoring. His eyes were closed as he licked and pulled along your labia with his tongue and lips. With slow hard strokes of his tongue, he pressed against your clit in shameless flourishes. Despite his hands at your hips, he let you grind slowly against his mouth, groaning into you when you tugged too roughly on his hair.

"Ju – ohh, Jumin! Ah, yes!" He left you gasping. The build-up of your orgasm was slow, a steady pulsing that traveled from your core, up your body and to your head, leaving you dizzy.

The grind of your hips became short rapid jerks that had him adjusting the pace of his tongue against you, faster shorter licks and a harsher press of fingers into your hips to hold you steady to him.

His eyes flashed open to watch you; head thrown back, one first clenching the sheets now that you finally let your little cries permeate the air. Your wine drizzled body twined and bowed for him. Your thighs gripped his cheeks. He felt the coil of your toes against his back and the searing heat of your sex against his mouth. He felt every hitch of your breath and every tremble of your body beneath his lips and fingers.

He knew you were close to orgasm, the second of many he would give you tonight if he had his way. He felt the flutter of your cunt, the spastic contractions that begged him to pull off his clothing and fill you, to feel your warmth ensnare him completely. He promised himself he would do just that later, for now though...

Puckering his lips against your clit he sucked hard, the faint edge of his teeth scraping across the hood of it. Your hips pushed against his lips with a sharp cry, but he had no intentions of releasing the small bundle until you came for him.

With a howl of his name and a series of unintelligible sounds, your orgasm rushed through you. Limbs quivering and breath halting, your vision went white as sparks of fire swept through nerves and vessels. For a moment lasting eternity you lacked proprioception or thought and allowed yourself to fall through waves of intangible sensations until the sure press of Jumin's hands and the warm breath from his lungs against your thighs called you back.

The lids of your eyes felt unbelievably heavy as you struggled to open them. Jumin's thumbs ran small circles against your sides as he waited for you to gather yourself. His cheek leant against your inner thigh as he simply watched you in your afterglow. His lips were misted with your arousal that he appeared in no rush to rid himself of.

When you made eye contact with him and threw a lazy satisfied smile his direction he did the same. Your hand was still woven in his hair, now a haphazard mess thanks to your fingers. In silent apology you gently brushed through his fringe, untangling the mess you'd created and sweeping it from his eyes. He was content to lay there with you for only a moment though before the wicked spark scintillated in his eyes again.

He pressed a quick kiss to your thigh, half a second later noticing the sheen of the arousal he'd left behind and dipping to suck it off quickly. The small act alone sent a tingle up your body and back down to your still dripping core.

You would never get enough of this man.

Without a word he rose off the bed, grabbing the empty glass from its fallen position at your side and shrugged off his shirt. Momentarily you watched the fabric billow in the air to the floor before noting Jumin's silent steadily retreating form.

"Where are you going?" You hadn't meant to sound needy, and it certainly didn't help your voice was weak and sleepy, but currently the score was uneven and your pride insisted you settle it. Judging by the tent he was still sporting in his pants, he wouldn't put up much of an argument with that idea, so why was he leaving?

Once he was at the doorframe he turned to look at you over his bare shoulder and tossed a carefree smile your way. He raised the glass between his fingers, tilting it slightly to and fro in the air, "I appear to be out of wine and I haven't quite made my… decision yet, of which flavor I prefer more."

His smile grew wider at your shocked expression before he turned away to saunter down the hall. It was no secret that Jumin Han enjoyed his wine, but he certainly enjoyed you more.