Wonsik lifted you up as soon as the sound of the door shutting filled his ears. His lips connected to yours as he carried you to the kitchen counter, yet never breaking the kiss. Your hands roamed over each other’s bodies. He was the first to take of some kind of clothing; quickly removing his shirt and throwing it to the floor. Knowing how much you love leaving marks down his back, he made sure his shirt was the first to go. Once Wonsik’s shirt was no longer on him, your nails were already digging into his shoulders.