Smuts part-1

"J-Jungkook..."

"Louder."

"Jungkook!" she cried out as he added another finger, thrusting deep.

Satisfaction surged through him. This was what he lived for – her surrender, her complete dependence on him for pleasure. He dropped to his knees, pushing her dress up further, his mouth replacing his fingers. YN's hands tangled in his hair as he devoured her, his tongue flicking and sucking with relentless hunger.

She came undone quickly, her body shaking as waves of ecstasy crashed over her. "I... I can't... oh fuck!"

Jungkook stood, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, his eyes blazing. He undid his belt, freeing himself, and positioned at her entrance. "Look at me," he ordered.

YN's hazy eyes met his, and he thrust into her in one swift motion. She screamed his name, her nails digging into his shoulders. He set a punishing pace, each thrust claiming her anewala

"You're so tight... so perfect for me," he groaned, his hands gripping her hips hard enough to bruise.

YN was lost in the sensation, her mind fogging over as he wrecked her senses. "Jungkook... please... more..."

He obliged, angling deeper, hitting that spot that made stars explode behind her eyelids. The kitchen echoed with their moans, the slap of skin on skin. Jungkook's control slipped, his obsession fueling his every move. He wanted to mark her, to make sure she never forgot who she belonged to.

As she clenched around him, nearing her peak again, he leaned in, whispering harshly, "Forget everything but me. Forget your own name if you have to."

Her climax hit like a storm, her body convulsing as she cried out incoherently. Jungkook followed soon after, spilling into her with a guttural roar, his forehead pressed against hers.

They stayed like that, panting, until reality seeped back in. YN's eyes fluttered open, a dazed smile on her lips. "That was... intense."

Part-2

He ran his palm down her spine, admiring the arch of her back, the way she trembled in anticipation. "So fucking beautiful like this. All mine to ruin."

The first thrust was slow, deliberate, letting her feel every inch as he filled her completely. YN moaned into the pillow, the sound muffled but desperate.

He set a punishing rhythm, one hand gripping her bound wrists, the other tangled in her hair to pull her head back. "Tell me who you belong to."

"You... only you..."

"Say it properly."

"I belong to Jungkook Jeon," she cried out, voice breaking as he hit deeper.

He rewarded her with harder thrusts, the headboard slamming against the wall in time with their bodies. The city skyline glittered beyond the windows, indifferent to the raw passion unfolding inside.

When she started clenching around him, close to the edge, he slowed deliberately, teasing her.

"No—no please don't stop," she begged, pushing back against him.

"Not yet." He leaned over her, lips at her ear. "I want you to forget everything. Your name, your thoughts, everything except how good I make you feel."

Tears of frustration and pleasure pricked her eyes. "Please... Jungkook..."

He finally gave in, pounding into her relentlessly until she shattered, screaming his name so loudly the sound echoed through the empty penthouse. He followed moments later, burying himself deep and spilling inside her with a guttural groan.

They collapsed together, breathing hard. Jungkook untied her wrists gently, kissing the faint red marks left by the fabric.

"You okay?" he asked softly, the cold CEO gone, replaced by the tender — yet still intensely possessive — husband.

YN nodded weakly, turning to curl into his chest. "More than okay. Just... wrecked. In the best way."

He kept the rhythm torturously slow. Long, deliberate strokes that dragged against every sensitive place inside her until her legs were shaking and her nails were leaving crescent moons in his skin.

When she started to beg — broken little “please… faster… please…” — he finally gave in.

He hooked her leg over his hip, changing the angle, and fucked her the way she needed.

Hard. Deep. Unrelenting.

The headboard knocked rhythmically against the wall.

Her cries grew louder, sharper.

He clamped a hand over her mouth.

“Not so loud, baby,” he rasped. “The windows are soundproof but I still want your screams just for me.”

Her eyes rolled back.

When she came it was violent — full-body shudders, muffled sobs against his palm, inner walls pulsing so hard it dragged his own release out of him.

He spilled inside her with a low, guttural sound, hips stuttering as he filled her to the brim.

They stayed locked together for long minutes afterward, breathing in sync.

Eventually he pulled out slowly, watching the way his cum dripped from her swollen folds. Something primal and satisfied curled in his gut at the sight.

“Mine,” he whispered, almost reverently.