Koo dabbed her flushed face with a tissue, legs still trembling from her orgasm. Her nipples ached, swollen, her pussy still dripping. She tried to calm down, but her heart thundered in her chest.

He saw. Fuck, Taehyung saw everything.

She slipped back into her shorts and tank, though her panties were so soaked they clung uncomfortably. She smoothed her hair and forced herself to walk downstairs, praying her face didn’t scream I was just fingering myself moaning your names.

The moment she stepped into the living room, her stomach dropped.

Taehyung leaned against the wall, talking low to Namjoon and Yoongi. His eyes flicked up to her the second she entered, and that same smug smirk spread across his lips. Namjoon’s brow quirked, a slow grin tugging his mouth, while Yoongi chuckled under his breath, eyes raking over her flushed face and messy walk.

They all looked at her like they knew.

And she was pretty fucking sure Taehyung was explaining exactly what he’d seen.

Koo’s face burned, but her pussy clenched harder. She tugged her shorts down, as if that could hide the wet patch spreading at her thighs, and busied herself with the tray of glasses.

Jiwon was in the back room again, muttering to himself about measurements, completely oblivious.

The three men didn’t stop staring.

Yoongi was the first to move. He brushed past her on his way to “get water,” his hand ghosting across her ass cheek. Just a graze — but enough to make her gasp.

“Still wet, Koo?” he murmured low enough only she could hear, his smirk wicked.

Her knees almost buckled. She didn’t answer, just bit her lip hard, pretending to rearrange cups on the counter.

Namjoon came next. He stood close — too close — when he handed her a tape measure, his chest brushing against her tits. His deep voice rumbled. “Bet you taste as sweet as you look.”

Her breath hitched, nipples stabbing through her tank as his eyes lingered on them. She swallowed, forcing a nervous laugh, pretending it was nothing.

But her thighs squeezed together desperately.

Taehyung didn’t touch her right away. He waited, watching her squirm, until she had to bend over to pick up a fallen rag. The moment her tits nearly spilled from her tank, his hand was there, pressing lightly against the small of her back, guiding her upright.

“Careful, princess,” he drawled in her ear, his breath hot. “Wouldn’t want you dripping on the floor again.”

Her entire body jolted. Heat flooded her face, humiliation and arousal twisting tight. She couldn’t meet his eyes, not with the other two watching, smirking knowingly.

Everywhere she turned, one of them was there — brushing her arm, letting their hand linger on her waist, whispering filth under their breath where Jiwon couldn’t hear.

“You looked so pretty cumming, Koo.”

“Bet those fingers aren’t enough.”

“Your pussy’s begging for cock, isn’t it?”

By the time the afternoon sun dipped, she was trembling, her panties ruined, her face flushed from more than the heat. She carried herself like a good wife, smiling sweetly, fetching drinks for the men helping her husband — but inside, she was drenched, aching, and ready to break.

And every smirk, every graze of their hands, every filthy word whispered against her ear, only dragged her closer to the edge.

Her husband thought they were just neighbours lending a hand.

But Jungkook knew — this was the beginning of her ruin.