Peerless Perverted Actor Has a Celebrity Harem?!

Park was kissing her neck more and more confidently like he knew what he was doing but in reality he was just following his instincts and guidance from the pretty of such videos online.

The skin under his lips was soft and slightly damp, and when he dragged his mouth lower he felt her pulse jump hard against his tongue. Emmeline’s head tipped back against the wall with a shaky breath, her fingers still tangled in his hair, gripping a little too tight like she didn’t know how else to hold on.

He kept going — slow, deliberate kisses down the side of her throat, feeling every small tremor that ran through her.

He carried her the short distance to the bed without putting her down.

The mattress dipped under their weight as he laid her back. He followed her down, bracing himself on one forearm so he hovered over her, the other hand still locked under the soft curve of her ass. Her legs stayed wrapped around him for a second longer before slowly sliding down, thighs parting just enough that he settled between them.

Her body felt so hot against him through the thin dress, soft where her stomach brushed his.

Park kissed her neck again, then the hinge of her jaw, then lower.

His hand left her ass and found the thin straps of her dress. Emmeline’s fingers were still loosely holding the fabric at her chest like some last, useless barrier. For a moment her grip tightened — a small, instinctive resistance — even though she had already stood in front of him half-naked that morning.

Letting him look at her naked body in just her undergarments from across a room was one thing.

Letting Park strip her while he was this close, while his breath was still on her skin, was something else entirely. She felt the shyness rise sharp and sudden in her chest, ridiculous after everything that had already happened, but real all the same.

A faint flush climbed Emmeline’s throat.

He gently pulled her hands away.

She let him.

The soft material slipped from her fingers and he eased it down. The fabric dragged slowly over her skin, catching for a second on the full shape of her tits before he tugged it lower and pooled at her waist, leaving her completely exposed from the waist up.

Park went completely still.

His breath caught somewhere high in his throat and stayed there. The kind of stillness that only comes when a guy is seeing something he has never seen before and is terrified of looking away for even a second in case it disappears. His eyes moved over her with an almost painful focus — slow, hungry, unable to decide where to land.

Her cleavage came into view first — the deep, soft valley between her tits; the full shape of them.

They were teardrop-shaped, heavier at the bottom, full and high and so firm-hard enough that they held their own weight even as she lay back; Emmeline’s boobs were bigger than average, but not exaggerated — just perfect, soft, heavy teardrops that made his mouth go dry. The skin was flawless, pale and smooth with a faint natural flush spreading across the upper curves.

There were no marks or imperfections to make look less otherworldly than she already was but just clean, soft skin that looked almost unreal under the soft bedroom light.

And her nipples, were already tight and hard.

A soft dusty-rose color that had drawn into firm little peaks from everything that had just happened. They sat slightly upturned on the full underside of each breast, and every small breath she took made them shift.

Park’s eyes locked on them and stayed there longer than he meant to, watching the way they tightened further under his stare.

His first clear thought was that he had never seen anything like this perfect in either life.

Not in pictures or in late-night videos or even in the half-formed fantasies he’d carried around.

Real breasts — soft, living, right under him, rising and falling with her breathing. The weight of them. The way the soft underside curved.

The perfect, heavy teardrop shape that made his hands ache to cup them.

And they belonged to his sister.

This was Emmeline, his big sister.

Now she was lying under him with her dress pushed down and her tits bare, and he was staring at her like a starving animal. It felt surreal. Wrong and yet so fucking good he couldn’t look away.

He stared.

His throat worked once as his little member reacted too hard against the inside of his trousers, trapped and aching. He could see the small, rapid rise and fall of her chest. He could smell the clean scent of her skin mixed with the faint salt of the tears that had dried on her neck.

Fucking hell.

Emmeline watched him through half-lidded eyes, cheeks flushed darker now, lips still swollen and wet from kissing. The shyness was still there — she could feel it burning low in her stomach, making her want to turn her face away even as she stayed still — but something stronger rose underneath it the longer he stayed frozen above her.

She had never seen him look at anyone like this. Not once.

The hunger in his eyes was open and raw and almost painful, like he was being ruined by the simple fact of her body existing in front of him. She could see the conflict too — the way his eyes kept flickering with the knowledge that she was his sister — but the lust was winning.

It was the first time in her life she had ever been looked at with that kind of unfiltered lust, and the knowledge hit her harder than she expected.

A quiet, dangerous pride bloomed in her chest.

He was completely lost:

’In me, his own sister.’

She didn’t cover herself and just lay there under him with her dress pushed down to her waist, bare from the waist up, letting him look, watching the way his eyes kept moving over her like he couldn’t decide where to stop. Every time his gaze dragged across her nipples she felt them tighten further, and the small, helpless reaction only made the shyness worse — and the pride sharper.

Park’s voice came out rough:

"You’re... perfect."

His hand lifted almost without permission.

His fingers hovered just above the soft outer curve of one breast, close enough that he could almost feel her, but not quite touching yet.

The hesitation was damning and completely amateur; he had never touched real breasts before — not once — and the weight of that fact sat heavy between them. His fingers trembled slightly in the air. He was afraid. Not of her. Of the fact that the second he touched his sister’s tit, there would be no taking it back.

Beneath the full weight of her breasts, her stomach was soft and flat, rising and falling with each uneven breath, the faint line of muscle visible only when she inhaled. The dress bunched at her waist, framing everything he was staring at.

He had never seen anything so beautiful in his life.

And Emmeline, still flushed and half-shy and quietly proud, let him keep looking — watching his eyes the entire time, feeling every second of his stunned, hungry silence like a physical touch.

Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!