Chapter 95
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 95
Chapter Title: Picky Tastes (♡)
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What picky tastes. (♡)
‘Is this guy using some kind of magic…?’
A real spell, not some intricate illusion trick. It felt like he possessed an ability that casually defied the laws of reality.
If she had to put a name to it, maybe hypnotic enchantment that bewitched people?
Thirty-three this year.
Han Woo-hee had cultivated a 'poisonous heart' to survive in the entertainment industry.
It had been over a decade since she'd been clawing her way through this world, where one misstep could cost her everything she'd built.
There were no 'innocents' left here.
The naively kind fools had burned out with mental breakdowns, and those lost in artistic delusions, clinging to pointless ideals, had either been weeded out or assimilated into the same mold as everyone else.
It might look like a glamorous fairy tale from the outside. But reality was just a filthy arena with a higher ceiling—same as the world beyond.
If anything, even more brutal.
At least, that's how it felt to Han Woo-hee.
In this place where she could trust no one but herself, she'd hardened her heart like a praying mantis queen, seducing male actors only to coldly discard them.
It hurt at first, but she grew numb to it.
Han Woo-hee had learned to always be the 'top dog' in her relationships.
Or so she thought.
Until she met Jung Woo-jin.
After encountering him, Han Woo-hee realized that the 'poisonous heart' she'd honed so sharply meant nothing in his presence.
It wasn't just because he was good in bed—there were too many things that didn't add up for that explanation.
Han Woo-hee remembered the first time she met Jung Woo-jin.
Back when he wore the mask.
The physical pleasure he'd given her then was undeniably something she'd never felt from anyone else.
But as she recalled.
At some point.
That immense 'physical ecstasy' had been laced with some kind of 'mental rapture'.
As if she craved being dominated by this man named Jung Woo-jin. Whenever she submitted to him in humiliation and surrender.
Han Woo-hee felt a dizzying sense of 'liberation' that blurred her mind endlessly.
If this wasn't magic, what else could she call it?
And she wasn't the only one ensnared by this 'magic'.
Rachel Zegler was the same.
The day Han Woo-hee had offered Rachel to Jung Woo-jin, she'd watched the whole thing from the control room that Baek Hee-jin had told her about.
It was sex so coercive and one-sided that 'rape' fit better than 'sex'.
Jung Woo-jin left without a shred of attachment once it was over.
But Rachel didn't show hostility toward him—instead, she kept reaching out to Han Woo-hee, spilling her troubles.
Her body burned so hot she was going insane, but she couldn't stand other men; how could she get in his good graces; what kind of person was he—she pried into every little detail.
'Love' didn't quite fit.
But clearly, Rachel had fallen under Jung Woo-jin's 'magic' just like her.
To escape this insidious 'magic'.
She kept telling herself today was the last time, this would be the end.
Today.
Han Woo-hee was convinced there was no escaping this 'magic'.
Nearly twenty days.
It had been so long since she'd seen him.
Watching Jung Woo-jin on stage, receiving his award at the ceremony, Han Woo-hee quietly cursed under her breath.
But it was just petulance—she couldn't truly hate him.
The moment their eyes met, her body and heart ignited, craving him.
He was a bastard who'd ghosted her without explanation.
Yet Han Woo-hee couldn't steel her heart against him.
His single command to wait at the company headquarters melted away the tangled mess of thoughts in her chest.
She'd ditched the afterparty with her fellow actors and industry folks without a second thought, raced to the office, hiked up her skirt, and plunged her fingers into her pussy.
‘No pride at all. Damn slut…’
Alone in the empty company building, masturbating—waves of shame kept crashing over her.
But the anticipation of Jung Woo-jin arriving soon drowned it out, her pussy endlessly drooling nectar.
And now.
Han Woo-hee was reveling in the effects of his 'magic'.
"Grk, hngh, hrgh…!"
With her hair gripped and yanked back by Jung Woo-jin, Han Woo-hee clung pathetically to the sofa.
Her left nipple was twisted viciously, on the verge of tearing off, while his scorching cock pistoned in and out of her pussy.
This was the fourth round.
After the mind-shattering squat-fuck that left her barely conscious under his hands.
Jung Woo-jin had flipped the limp Han Woo-hee over the desk and rammed his cock down her throat. Even choking for air, she was endlessly aroused by the brutal invasion of her gullet.
In that dizzying moment, she shuddered at the sensation of his cum blasting against the back of her throat.
The infinite thrill of total submission to him.
After that, he'd obsessively gripped her hips and pounded her relentlessly.
No chance for his semen to escape before the next thrust—each plunge forced spurts of cum out around his shaft.
The mix of leaking semen and juices trickled down her thighs into her heels, pooling between her toes.
It didn't feel dirty.
Just.
She let out ecstatic moans, thrilled that he desired her this much.
‘Y-yeah. Once you know this, there's no escaping…’
Squelch-!
Right on cue.
Jung Woo-jin's cock, buried deep in her womb, throbbed and swelled.
Spurt, splurt, spluuurt-!
Fresh cum flooded her already semen-stuffed depths.
Her grip on the sofa slackened, and she collapsed under his weight, crushed into the cushions.
"Kkh, grkh…."
An overwhelming mass difference that crushed any thought of resistance.
She should feel helpless.
But Han Woo-hee felt only deep satisfaction.
Pinned under him, her legs flailed, one heel slipping off.
Her cum-slick toes slid across the marble floor.
"Hak…?!"
Her hips ground into the sofa as her legs bucked backward, trembling uncontrollably.
Her waist jerked, lower belly quivering.
As if her womb itself was shaking.
Then.
Without pulling out, Jung Woo-jin yanked her hair back again.
"Eek…?!"
Her back arched painfully, breath ragged.
Jung Woo-jin whispered hotly in her ear.
"Gonna use your pussy some more. You haven't passed out yet, right?"
"Ah, aaah…!"
To attend the year-end film awards, they'd sent Jung Woo-jin back to Korea.
Baek Hee-jin, left in California, methodically prepared for the upcoming 'Paranormal' shoot.
Scouting long-term stay facilities near the set, renting a car for Jung Woo-jin during filming, hiring a dedicated chef available for post-shoot dinners.
It had been ages since she'd handled on-site logistics like this.
But it was.
Surprisingly fun.
Especially since it was for Jung Woo-jin.
"Hmhm…."
Baek Hee-jin began filling the tub in the accommodations she'd prepared for him with hot water.
‘Floating flower petals here, then kissing him slow and deep—how romantic would that be…?’
Thinking of Jung Woo-jin made her gestures and thoughts turn unusually feminine.
Once the tub was sufficiently full, Baek Hee-jin turned off the faucet and dipped her toes in.
The surface rippled roughly.
Soon, submerged up to her chest, she exhaled deeply and mused.
"Maybe I should set up a place like this here too."
If 'Paranormal' launched his full overseas push.
Having dedicated housing for agency actors in the U.S. wasn't a bad idea.
Han Woo-hee, newly joined Stone Actors, already had Hollywood experience, and Son Sia could break in with a bit more seasoning.
"Come to think of it…."
All three—Han Woo-hee, Son Sia, and herself—shared something in common.
They were women who'd have to spread their legs whenever Jung Woo-jin wanted.
Sipping from a wine glass nearby, Baek Hee-jin murmured to herself.
"He's so picky…. What particular tastes. Hmng…."
A subtle satisfaction bloomed.
"At least he doesn't fuck just anyone, right?"
Even considering Rachel, the latest addition.
Jung Woo-jin didn't sleep around indiscriminately.
All the women in that list were stunning and talented.
Baek Hee-jin felt pleased knowing she wasn't 'just anyone'.
She splashed the warm water lightly and whispered.
"Woo-jin's coming back soon. Time to push once more."