Morning light sliced through the blinds, painting stripes across the rumpled bed. Namjoon pressed a drowsy kiss to Koo’s temple. “Early shareholder meeting,” he mumbled against her hair, his warmth a fleeting comfort. She clung to his scent—clean cotton and coffee—as he dressed.

At the apartment door, he flashed his easy grin. “Dad’s probably still asleep. Take care of each other today, okay?” He kissed her deeply, oblivious to Taehyung leaning against the hallway wall, arms crossed. Taehyung’s smirk was slow, predatory. The door clicked shut. Silence pooled thick and suffocating.

Koo fled to the kitchen. She scrubbed last night’s dishes until her hands stung red under scalding water, drowning in the lemon soap scent. But heavy footsteps approached. Taehyung stood too close, hip brushing hers as he reached past her shoulder for a coffee mug—his forearm lean, muscled.

His breath warmed her neck. “Busy bee,” he murmured. The roughness in his voice made her flinch. She sidestepped, heart hammering, toward the fridge. Avoid him. Fold laundry. Vacuum. Anything. She grabbed a basket of clothes, retreating to the bedroom.

He followed. As she bent to sort socks on the bed, he was suddenly behind her—a solid, immovable presence. His front pressed flush against her backside, the hard ridge beneath his thin sweatpans unmistakable against her soft cotton shorts. Koo froze.

Heat flooded her cheeks, a treacherous mix of fury and unwelcome tingling low in her belly. His hand settled low on her hip, fingers splaying possessively. “Always hiding,” he breathed into her ear, low and thick. The laundry tumbled to the floor. Her throat tightened. Turned on? The thought sickened her—yet her skin burned where he touched.

She spun around, shoving him back with shaking hands. “Get off!” The words ripped out, hoarse with panic. Taehyung chuckled, stepping back. His gaze dropped to her heaving chest, hungry. “Make me.”

The flush deepened, spreading down her neck to her collarbone. She scrambled backward. The backs of her knees hit the mattress edge. “You’re disgusting!” The insult hissed out, sharp as broken glass—yet her breath hitched wetly.

Taehyung prowled closer, crowding her against the unmade sheets. He wasn’t smiling now. His eyes were flat, predatory. “Call me filthy names, girl,” he murmured, leaning in. She smelled coffee and the faint musk of his skin. Her legs trembled. That warm slickness bloomed between her thighs—helpless, betraying. She hated it. Hated him. His knuckle brushed her jawline, feather-light. Koo slapped his hand away. “Touch me again and I’ll scream!”

He caught her wrist—fast, bruisingly tight. His thumb dug into her pulse point. Fear choked her scream before it could form. “Scream?” Taehyung tilted his head, voice dropping to a velvet rasp. “Who’d hear? Joon’s gone all day.”

He tugged her closer. Her breasts crushed against his chest. The friction rasped her peaked nipples through the thin fabric. A tiny gasp escaped her. Wetness soaked her shorts. His smirk returned, cruel and knowing. “That’s it,” he breathed against her lips—close, too close. “Angry little slut.” His free hand slid down her spine, gripping her ass hard enough to bruise. Koo whimpered. She couldn’t pull away. The scent of him—leather, sweat, dominance—filled her lungs. His lips hovered a breath from hers.

***

Hours crawled by. Koo scrubbed the bathroom tiles until her knees ached, drowning in bleach fumes. She’d locked herself in. Outside, Taehyung’s heavy footsteps paced—a prowling threat. When silence finally fell, she crept out, trembling. The afternoon sun poured into the living room. She froze.

Taehyung sprawled naked on the sofa, head thrown back. On the massive TV screen, a woman moaned, bent over a kitchen counter. His fist pumped his cock—thick, flushed crimson, veins bulging. Precum glistened at the tip. Koo’s breath hitched. He didn’t pause.

His gaze locked onto her, dark and predatory. “See something you like?” His voice was rough, thick with arousal. He stroked harder. Slap-slap-slap—the wet sound filled the room, mingling with the p*rn’s gasps.

Her legs trembled. She couldn’t move. Couldn’t look away. That traitorous heat coiled low in her belly again. He grinned, cruel. “Thinkin’ ’bout how tight you’d feel.” His thumb circled the swollen head. “Joon ever make you come like this?” He leaned forward, tendons straining in his neck. “Bet you’re dripping right now.”

Koo’s cheeks burned. Her damp panties clung. She dug her nails into her palms. Run. But his groan—low, guttural—rooted her to the spot. “Come here,” he rasped. “Want your mouth on it.” The command vibrated through her bones.