Y/n pov:

"Suho, no, someone could see us," I protested, my breath catching in my throat. His lips, hot and demanding, traced a path from my mouth down my jaw, leaving a trail of fire.

I knew this was wrong, but his touch—this electric current running through me—made every logical cell in my brain scream in confused pleasure.

"Let them look, Y/n," he growled, his voice a low rumble against my neck. His hand moved over the slick fabric of my sports bra, his thumb brushing teasingly against my nipple through the material. A gasp escaped me. "We're just enjoying ourselves."

"Enjoying ourselves is an understatement," I whispered, my fingers gripping the back of his shirt, pulling him closer even as a tiny part of me urged caution. "We're in the parking lot,anyone could walk by."

I knew I was contradicting myself, but the thrill of public indiscretion mingled with a lingering, bitter shame.