Free Seoul Spankings by Anastasia Vitsky

I….”
    There it was. The reality I’d asked her not to speak.
    “No one has to know. You are American; your culture is more permissive. No one will ask.”
    “You don’t understand.” She pushed back the sheet and caressed my breasts.
    I covered her hands with mine, unwilling to accept what was not given freely. “No, Indi. Don’t give to me out of obligation. Wait until you truly want—”
    I should have phrased it better. The words struck a sour note as soon as they left my mouth, but she didn’t give me a chance to explain.
    “Is that what this was? An obligation?” She turned away from me, sliding off the bed. As she stood up, blinding me in the sheer beauty of her naked form, she reached for the crumpled yellow dress we had thrown onto the floor last night. That I had thrown. “Should I offer a testimonial for your business? I’ll let your next customer know to expect good sex.”
    “Indi—”
    “Say your name, huh? Do you use that line with every woman you get into bed with you? The one about looking for a wife was a nice touch. Almost made me believe you.”
    The harsh, acidic bitterness made us both cringe. I should have contradicted her, but instead, my internal warning system flared a different signal. Need food. Now . We had left the cake uneaten last night, and it rested on the table a few feet away. If I could get my blood sugar up, my soggy brain could function.
    Then again, all of my years training to be the next Ee Sajang of Han Incorporated left me clueless to handle post-coital anger. I’d never faced post-coital anything before, at least not with someone I actually cared about. I racked my brains, trying to think of the right thing to say.
    “I was serious.”
    She zipped up the back of the dress Minhee had chosen with such care.
    “I told Minhee to cancel your flight home today. We can announce the engagement as soon as my father gives permission. You can choose—”
    “No.” Shoving her feet into the gold sandals, she glared at me. “You had no right to make that decision. Get the ticket back. Maybe you could buy a blow-up sex doll. It would follow your orders.”
    Stunned, I clutched the bedsheets to my chest that felt more naked than she should see. “Greg,” I guessed. “Greg treated you badly, so you think I’ll do the same. I won’t, Indi.” I fought the tremors, headache, and rising panic. I had to control myself. I’d rather face another international shaming than let Indi get away.
    She finger-combed her tousled hair, causing it to stick out all over. And yet, dressed in yesterday’s clothes and flushed with anger, she was the sexiest woman I had ever seen.
    Stop it, Han Hyunkyung! Think with your head instead of your pants! What will you do, tackle her and force her to stay?
    “It doesn’t matter,” she said, fatigue replacing anger. “I’m sorry I yelled at you. I just— It’s time for me to go home.”
    This should have been Indi’s new home, but a Cheongju Han could not dishonor her name. “Very well.” I rose and put on my own clothes. “I’ll tell Minhee to make the arrangements. She will let you know when to expect the car.”
    Indigo let herself out of the room without asking for directions to the guest suite. I stared at the closed door for a few minutes before placing the call.
    “Hyojung-ssi. I need your help.”
     
    ***
     
    “Miss Indi Go!”
    I might have wandered the hallways forever if Miss Cha hadn’t found me. “I need to find my bag so I can pack.”
    “Why do you go home?” Her tone was kind, but the shame of the past few days caught up with me.
    “Hyunkyung said you would make the arrangements.”
    Miss Cha bobbed in approval but answered a different question. “Your Korean is getting better. You said Ee Sajangnim’s name perfectly!”
    Say my name!
    Hyunkyung.
    But you will never use my name in public. Outside these walls, I am Ee Sajangnim.
    Why did you make me learn Hyunkyung, then?
    For when you scream it in bed.
    I