Later, Taehyung sat naked on the plush couch, pulling Koo onto his lap. Her skin glistened under the dimmed lights. His thumb circled her clit slowly, deliberately—not teasing, just claiming. Koo sighed, melting against his chest. "You're mine," Taehyung murmured, his voice low and final. "No other cock touches this." He pinched her clit lightly, making her gasp. "Ever."

Koo pouted, shifting against him. "But... what if I crave more? What if I need—" Taehyung pinched harder, cutting her off. "No." His tone was ice. "You belong to me. That greedy pink hole? Mine. Your slutty mouth? Mine." His thumb pressed down firmly on her clit. "Decision's final, Koo." She whimpered, nodding mutely. "Yes, Mr. Kim."

Inside, though, Koo’s mind raced. His cock is perfect... rich... powerful... She bit her lip, hiding her face against his neck. But one cock forever? The memory of Jung’s rough hands, the thrill of being used by strangers in shadowed corners—it crackled under her skin. Taehyung was the ultimate prize, a CEO sugar daddy dripping cash and dominance. Yet her body screamed for variety, for the filthy rush of new hands gripping her hips, new voices grunting filth in her ear. Can I really give that up? His thumb stroked her clit soothingly now, almost tender. Koo closed her eyes, feigning contentment. But beneath the surface, hunger twisted—sharp, relentless, and utterly treacherous.

The next morning, Koo walked through the polished lobby, head high. Jung leaned against the security desk, eyes raking her tight pink dress. "Morning, princess," he rasped, adjusting his belt with deliberate slowness. His gaze lingered on her chest. "Missed that sweet pink pussy."

Koo flushed, her thighs instinctively squeezing together. Wetness bloomed between her legs. Fuck, he wants me. A janitor mopping nearby paused, openly staring at her ass. His stare felt like a physical touch—hot, crude. Koo quickened her pace, pulse thudding. Every hallway felt like a gauntlet. Sales Manager Choi grinned as she passed, whispering to his buddy, "Bet she’d ride anything in this building." Laughter followed her. Koo ducked into the elevator, breathless. Her reflection showed flushed cheeks, swollen lips. They all want me. She pressed a hand between her legs, stifling a moan.

By lunch, Koo was drowning in need. She hid in the fourth-floor supply closet, skirt hiked up. Her fingers plunged into her slick pink hole, frantic. "Fuck," she gasped, imagining Jung’s wrinkled cock stretching her, Choi’s greedy mouth on her tits, the janitor’s calloused hands spreading her ass. She came violently against stacked boxes, biting her fist to silence her scream. Panting, she smoothed her dress. Taehyung’s claim echoed: No other cock. But her thighs were soaked. He can’t cage this hunger. She needed more—filthy, anonymous, now.

That evening, Taehyung pinned her against his office window, the city glittering below. He fucked her slow and deep, his grip bruising. "Only mine," he growled, watching her reflection. Koo moaned obediently, arching into his thrusts. Yours... for now. But her eyes drifted to Jung patrolling the dim parking lot below. Her cunt clenched tighter around Taehyung’s cock, imagining the guard’s rough fingers replacing his. Soon, she promised herself, biting back a smile. Very soon.