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When Jungkook told Lisa he was building his own house in the heart of Itaewon, surrounded by the CEOs of the most powerful Korean conglomerates, she hadn’t imagined a literal man cave. Not in her wildest dreams.
He had sent her pictures as the construction went on—every tiny detail the architect had shown him, every corner, every finish, Jungkook had proudly shared with her. But nothing had prepared her for the moment she stepped inside and was met with… darkness.
Literally.
Dark floors. Dark walls. Blackout curtains. Deep wood furniture. Lights that didn’t even try to compete with the shadows because it was just a lost battle.
Lisa loved sunlight. In her own house, she kept the blinds wide open. The floor-to-ceiling windows flooded the space with so much light that it once made Jungkook cry from the sting in his eyes. So being alone here, in this cave of a house, was unnerving.
The hallway unnerved her. The bathroom unnerved her. Even the living room unnerved her. It felt cold, empty, it made fuckign echo sometimes. And ironically, the basement didn’t scare her at all—it was the brightest place in the house. But getting there, climbing down those dark stairs, even with her ridiculous boyfriend’s elevator that avoided half of them, felt like stepping into a haunted house.
So there she was, wrapped in his massive black Calvin Klein shirt, perched on the sleek black marble countertop in the kitchen (of course it was black), while he cooked. Clinging to him like a tick. She was practically shadowing him, probably more than Bam, his dog, and it should have felt pathetic—but it didn’t.
She was behind the great Jeon Jungkook, please.
He moved through the kitchen like a living work of art. Barefoot, hair still damp from the shower, droplets sliding down his neck onto his sculpted chest. She had the rare, intimate view that only she got but many wished to have.
He was focused on the process in front of him, knife flashing with effortless precision as he chopped onions, then kimchi, then slices of spam. The rhythmic tapping of the blade was just background noise as Lisa talked and talked.
She’d been talking nonstop for at least ten minutes about the Louis Vuitton show in Paris she had just come back from, rattling off every celebrity she’d seen.
“So Zendaya was there,” she said, inevitably watching the strong, defined line of his left shoulder as he leaned over the electric stove to check it was really on. “And I finally saw her engagement ring! It’s gorgeous!” Her eyes sparkled, she licked her dry lips and bit the lower one, smiling. “Honestly, she looked, like, so… mature? You know when someone just glows from love? Like, it shows Tom loves her good. But it makes sense, that woman isn’t real.”
“Mmm,” he murmured, barely glancing up. He just nodded and poured the onions into the sizzling oil.
Lisa sighed, amused. “You’re not even listening to me.”
“I am,” he said, a large hand twirling the onions with a wooden spoon expertly. “Zendaya. Engagement ring. You love her.”
She snorted. “You missed like three other points, but sure. Close enough.”
“Close enough,” he repeated, flashing that innocent, adorable grin, and his eyes glinting with mischief. He was impossibly beautiful. No wonder his mom always said he was impossible to scold as a kid—and still impossible as an adult. She’d seen it herself the night they all went out for his birthday.
Jungkook returned to his task, and Lisa couldn’t look away.
He had always been a remarkable cook. He loved to eat but was meticulous about what he consumed, especially when he was dieting and preparing for something in his career, like now. She was used to sitting next to him, chatting, not even trying to learn anything herself.
Why bother? Her father was a world-famous chef, and her man was the best cook in Korea.
But since his military service, something had shifted in the way Jungkook cooked. It was cleaner, faster, and controlled. Every motion was efficient, almost elegant. His forearms flexed with each precise cut, tattoos bending with the movement, veins standing out beneath the ink. She…
She bit her nail.
He didn’t even need to look to cut perfectly. Her heart raced and her blood heated just watching him.
They had just woken up together, rolled around in the sheets like they always did. He had roused her early, because since his military days he slept from 1 a.m. to 9 a.m., and at least he fucked her properly so she wouldn’t complain. He actually did fuck more than properly. But now she wanted him all over again.
The need for it made her belly hurt a bit, and between her legs, her core tightened.
He noticed her gaze and raised his eyebrows. “You’re staring at me.”
“I’m listening,” she said too quickly.
“Listening to what?” he asked, amused, tasting a bit of what he was cooking. It didn’t convince him, so he reached for the black spice rack on the other counter. She glanced down at his ass in those loose shorts, nothing underneath, and her tights closed tight, rubbing. “You haven’t said a word in two minutes,” he continued, completely oblivious.
“You cook… loudly,” she shrugged.
He stopped dead, mock offended. “Loudly? I’m very quiet.”
“Mentally loud,” she corrected, waving a hand. “Your arms are screaming.”
He blinked. “My arms are… what?”
“Never mind,” she rolled her eyes, as if he were too slow to understand. Jungkook let out a soft laugh and sprinkled pepper over the pan. Smooth R&B music filled the room, wrapping them in a bubble of warmth.
His warm hand landed on her knee softly as he passed, and her body tensed, aching for more. But he was just leaning past her to grab a few eggs from the carton beside her.
He got them and kept working. She made a small pout, disappointed. And he still didn’t notice, completely absorbed in the food.
No surprise. He’d always loved food more than anything.
Then, without warning, he said, “Check this out,” holding two eggs in each hand for her to see.
“Eggs?” she tilted her head, confused.
“You’re about to witness years of culinary experience,” he said dramatically.
Lisa raised an eyebrow. “You mean your year and a half in the military?”
“Exactly.” He nodded proudly and cleared his throat. “Pay attention, doll. This is amazing.”
She narrowed her eyes, and her brows pinched together, still confused. He smiled more, finding her extremely cute, and added: “You’ll be amazed since this is something you can’t do.”
What did he mean?
Jungkook moved the eggs side to side, like he was about to juggle them and Lisa thought he might do it but that’s not what happened.
He allowed expectation to grow for a few seconds, hyper focused on his hands, and then…
He just cracked both eggs at once—crack crack—perfectly symmetrical, yolks sliding into the pan without a drop wasted.
He looked at her like he’d just performed a miracle. “See that? Not one shell.”
…
Okay…
Lisa blinked once. Twice. Thrice.
She burst out laughing then. “What the hell Jungkook?”
“It’s amazing, isn’t it?” He puffed out his chest, his pecs rising deliciously under her gaze.
“Totally,” she nodded, going along with him.
“I’m serious!” he insisted, though they both knew he wasn’t. “This took skill. You know, feeding fifty guys on a single burner, with two pots, and zero sleep. This…” He gestured at the eggs, spinning the spatula in his hand like a baton. “…this is art.”
“Art,” she repeated, smiling.
“Don’t mock me,” he wagged the spatula at her. “Last time I checked, you can’t even crack one.”
“Yah!” She tapped the utensil back at him, laughing too much to be offended. His grin, nose crinkling, was disarming. “I can do it! I learned!”
“Of course you can, baby,” he nodded, still not serious.
“Don’t be mean,” she whined, crossing her arms over her chest. Her hands brushed against her hard nipples beneath his shirt, and the sensation traveled straight to her belly… and further.
“I’m not,” he leaned in to press a kiss to her rounded cheek, and she couldn’t help smiling. “You’re just too cute,” he teased in a babyish imitation of her own tone, the way he did whenever her cuteness overwhelmed him.
She sighed softly, meeting his gaze. The warm light made his eyes glimmer as if all the stars were trapped there—a trait she’d always adored, even though Jungkook insisted it was her eyes that were beautiful.
But his eyes… they were breathtaking. Especially when they looked at her like this. Like it was the first time seeing each other: fragile, electric, full of longing.
“What?” she whispered, thinking he was about to say something.
“Nothing,” he shook his head, turning back to the stove with the spatula. “I’m just… glad you’re here.”
And she was glad. So glad.
Her chest swelled with a heat only Jungkook could ignite. Even after everything they’d been through.
Maybe it was the knife-sharp jaw, the mischievous wink, the tiny speck of yolk near his wrist, or simply the fact that he loved her so fiercely that being near him made her pulse race—but she felt that unmistakable twist in her stomach.
Shit.
She wanted him so bad it hurt.
He was ridiculously hot. Stupidly hot. The kind of hot that wasn’t performative—it was effortless. Jungkook didn’t even have to try.
Jungkook was sexy in every motion. When he lifted his head to push his bangs from his eyes, when he frowned at the taste he was checking, his broad shoulders flexing as he leaned forward and then adjusted his stance… even the way he moved around the kitchen made her heart race.
And now he knew it. Probably already felt her gaze on him. But Jungkook had always been patient. He liked her admitting it first—and she had—but not too easily.
“You think you’re so impressive.”
“I am impressive.”
She laughed. “Please.”
“Doubt the chef’s confidence?” He raised an eyebrow.
“Doubt the chef’s humility,” she shot back.
He didn’t reply, but the smug little smile on his face said it all. He just looked more attractive before her eyes. He might not flaunt his looks, which was hot, but he was ready to flaunt his skills he worked so hard for, which was hotter.
Lisa bit her lower lip, scheming a way to win this little verbal sparring while also getting exactly what she wanted: to get fucked.
It didn’t take long for her idea to spark.
The mental light bulb went off, adrenaline coursing through her, electrifying every nerve.
She straightened up, pretending to inspect the stove. “Want to see a trick?”
“Depends.” He didn’t glance at her. “If it involves burning down my kitchen, then no.”
“Better than your egg party trick.”
“Impossible,” he declared confidently. “Nothing tops that.”
Oh really? That’s what he thought?
Funny.
Her fingers lifted slowly to the first button of his shirt—the one hanging loose—and she unbuttoned it. Slowly.
His smile faltered. “Lisa.”
Her name sounded so delicious coming from that mouth, especially with the cadence of that accent of his.
She didn’t say a word. She just kept unbuttoning, deliberately, one slow, teasing button at a time.
The cotton fabric parted gradually, revealing glimpses of smooth skin and the faint curve of her chest just beneath.
She didn’t rush. Instead, she watched him. She rejoiced in the way his jaw tightened and the way his eyes darkened, completely focused on the movement of her long, delicate fingers.
By the third button, his breathing had already hitched.
The fourth came undone.
Then the fifth…
The shirt hung open, the collar sliding down her collarbone until it barely clung to her shoulder. The fabric laid heavy over her chest, victim of gravity, tracing the outline of her nipple underneath. Still, she hadn’t said a word.
He clicked his tongue and muttered, “That’s… a hell of a trick.”
Lisa’s lips curved slowly. “Do you like it?”
He let out a rough laugh, more audible than he intended. “You know I do.”
“Then come see the rest,” she whispered in that sweet teasing tone to make him swallow.
“That’s not fair,” he whined, nearly pathetically. She loved seeing him like this so much that her cunt clenched, hungry for him.
Nothing was more delicious than a man looking like dying if he didn’t touch you.
“What’s not fair?” She tilted her head, mock-innocent.
“You do this while I’m holding a spatula.”
She chuckled, it made her breasts shift beneath the fabric. He gritted his teeth, fighting the urge that coiled low in his stomach. “Then put the spatula down.”
He did, and actually tossed it aside. It clattered across the marble countertop, oil splattering lightly.
“And here I thought you’d be juggling,” he shook his head, letting out a dramatic sigh as he cleaned his hands with a rug.
She laughed, low and sultry. “I don’t juggle.”
“No, thank God. You just tease me with my own shirt.”
Two steps of his closed the gap between them. He was then between her parted thighs, hands braced on either side of her hips. Heat radiated from his strong body, making her skin tingle, goosebumps rising where the marble pressed cold against her back.
He studied her face, then the loose edges of the shirt, then returned to her mouth. A long second stretched between them. The soft music in the background wrapped around them, cocooning the moment, making it theirs alone.
“Lisa,” he sounded like he was warning her, because he was. She knew him enough to be aware he was about to snap but he was giving her one chance to step back and they’d be back to having breakfast.
But she didn’t give a damn about breakfast anymore.
“Mmm?” She tilted her head up until their breaths mingled.
“You’re going to make me forget about the food.”
“Maybe that’s the point,” she murmured and a playful nail traced along his chest, sliding teasingly between the planes of his pectorals.
He exhaled sharply through his nose, shaking his head, but the grin never left him. “My days in the military would’ve been a thousand times better with distractions like this.”
“And starve all those poor men?” she teased, theatrically pretending to care. “How terrible. Thank God you have me here… outside… all for you and only you.”
She hit the mark perfectly.
Nothing pleased him more than knowing she was his alone, for his eyes, his hands, his pleasure.
He drank her in. Every detail. Her firm, small breasts beneath his shirt, nipples hard and begging to be kissed. Her stomach, firm yet soft, and the skin he knew tasted like heaven. Her thighs, spread just enough to reveal the black cotton thong that barely covered the small cunt that belonged only to him.
She was lethal. Gorgeous in a way that was inexplicable, hard to define, but enough to inspire songs about suffering for her, and because of her. And she knew exactly how to provoke him and how to make him ache.
She knew him better than anyone.
“Are you just going to stare at me, or are you going to do something?” she asked, tilting her chin up. Her full lips, the ones that drove him insane, glistened in the soft light, daring him, tempting him. All of her was temping —her mouth, her skin, her body, every inch of her calling to him.
Jungkook didn’t hesitate. One hand found the nape of her neck, holding her close, while the other glided upward, cupping her chest, thumb brushing over the peak of her hard nipple. She gasped, arching into his touch, and he leaned down, capturing her mouth with a fierce, consuming kiss, while his fingers tangled in her hair.
His lips were scorching and wet with need, and she met him with the same raw hunger, pressing against him as if she could melt entirely into his body.
His tongue slipped into her mouth, exploring and tasting, marking her as his. She lifted her hands to his chest, pressing and pulling herself closer, matching his rhythm and teasing him with every lick and glide of her tongue.
Jungkook nipped lightly at her lower lip, then drew it between his teeth, sucking gently as a low groan rumbled from his chest. She gasped, pressing tighter against him. Her legs wrapped around him, holding him against her as her hands traveled down to his hips, drawing him impossibly close, until his growing cock pressed against her warm core, shielded only by the thin cotton of her panties.
He growled into the kiss, one hand sliding from her hair down to her thigh, fingers spreading wide, gripping her and pulling her even closer. Sparks of heat shot through her, radiating from every nerve ending.
His mouth shifted, nudging her back just slightly, pressing his body against hers, and Lisa’s arms found his neck again, clutching him. Her nipples burned against his firm chest and his hand lingered between them, trapping her nipple between two fingers, pressing just enough to make her shiver with want.
She crossed her ankles behind him, heels digging into his ass, grinding freely against him. Every brush, every press, sent a pulse straight to her clit, throb after throb.
Jungkook’s groan was deep, his teeth grazing her lips as he kissed her, a delicious mixture of dominance and desperate need. Then he let out a low, breathy laugh, somewhere between frustrated and ravenous, when the sizzle of breakfast beside them was a faint reminder of a world that no longer existed in this moment.
“Breakfast is ruined,” he murmured, as if blaming her.
“You started it,” she accused.
“I just cracked the eggs.”
“Exactly,” she said, diving back into his mouth, hungry for more.
His cock throbbed hot against her, and she wasn’t about to let it go to waste.
He pulled back only briefly, leaving a wet, tingling trail along her skin as he descended. His lips and tongue mapped the ridges and paths under her smooth skin, meeting the tattoo at the side of her neck only for a second before diving lower. Lisa gripped the edge of the counter, offering herself fully to whatever else he needed.
He traveled from her collarbones to her chest and took one nipple into his mouth as soon as it came in his way. The heat made her emit that small, sweet sound that belonged to him alone. His hand pinched the other, kneading her breasts fully before tugging gently. She arched back, head thrown, fingers tangling in his hair.
“Fuck, you taste so good,” he growled, genuine hunger in his voice, mouth full of her flesh. His hands slid down to her ass, gripping both cheeks, lifting her slightly against him. “This body… God, Lisa, you’re made to ruin me.”
Her laugh was breathless, breaking into a moan as he rubbed himself against her through the thong. “You’re drooling on me,” she teased.
“You love that,” he said confidently and ripped the thong aside roughly. He groaned as her wetness coated his fingers. “Already dripping, uh?”
“Maybe I like your little egg trick,” she whispered playfully, cupping his jaw, forcing him to look her in the eyes.
He groaned again, loud enough to make her laugh. His lips were already slick from kissing her, sucking her breasts, slightly swollen from his attention. “Gonna do it more often,” he promised, voice husky, and pulled his pants down just enough to free his cock. It was already red, throbbing, and leaking.
She spread her legs wider, ready, anticipation heating her from the inside out.
He aligned himself carefully, sliding in slowly, and his eyes locked on hers—full lips parted, lashes fluttering—as her walls welcomed him, warm and soft around him. This was the best part of making love to Lisa, every single damn time.
He hissed through his teeth, gripping her ass tighter. “Fuck, you’re so tight.”
Her legs coiled around him, heels digging into his lower back, and holding him like she never wanted him to leave. “Don’t stop,” she urged.
And he didn’t. He drove into her steadily, hard enough for the sound of skin meeting marble to echo through the cavernous kitchen. Lisa clung to his shoulders, moaning with each slide of his cock inside her. Her small, round breasts bounced perfectly to the rhythm, each movement pushing them both higher and closer to the edge.
Jungkook’s mouth grew obsessed with the taste of her skin. He bit her nipple once, lightly, then sucked it with a hungry, apologetic groan, the sound vibrating deep through her chest. Sparks of electricity spread all over her body, from each nerve ending in her.
Each thrust of his hips was as precise and fucking deliberate like when he chopped vegetables, sliding just right so that his thick cock brushed her clit with every movement, slick with her own juices. She felt every inch of him, heat and friction pulsing into her like pure burning fire.
His hands were equally worshipful—alternating between gripping her hips and clenching her ass, pulling her impossibly close. He guided her down onto him, until it felt like he was melding with her completely.
Lisa was a wreck beneath him. Head thrown back, hair falling in disarray, mouth open in soft cries, and her body utterly exposed. Her cunt clenched around him instinctively, each contraction teasing him, dripping onto the countertop. She called his name like a prayer, a single word that carried everything she felt.
“Fuck… doll,” he growled against her skin, tongue gliding down the valley between her breasts, and then he spanked her ass so sharply she shivered and squealed. “More, baby? Want more?”
“Yes,” she gasped, dragging her nails down his back, leaving little trails of fire in their wake. “More.”
His hips snapped harder, more insistent. His low, guttural groans vibrated across her chest as he sucked, nipped and licked her nipples raw. Lisa saw fucking stars behind her eyes.
Her stomach tightened as her muscles clenched around him. Sweat dotted her skin, mixing with the slick heat building between them. Her body had become exquisitely, painfully sensitive to every touch.
Then his hand slid between her legs, cupping her mound, and his thumb pressed directly on her clit. She gasped, thighs quivering instinctively.
“There?” he asked, as if he didn’t know, and his fingers began to rub hard, firm circles as his cock angled perfectly to hit her favourite spot.
Her eyes squeezed shut, bottom lip caught between her teeth until it turned pale. Her stomach knotted tighter with a delicious ache that spread more and more, tensing each muscle.
Jungkook watched her reaction, mesmerized, breath catching. The shirt that had been draped over her now pooled entirely on the countertop, hanging loosely from her forearms. Her back arched, nipples pointing proudly, every curve on display. Legs splayed so beautifully, so deliberately, that he could see everything: the way her cunt gripped him, how she was taking him in, begging silently for more, and how damn wet she left him.
Heat pooled in his chest, spreading downward, burning with need. He drove into her with steady, powerful rolls of his hips. Out until only the tip was inside, and inside until she couldn’t breathe because of how full she was. She loved this, more and more until her breathing grew ragged, ribs flaring with every sharp inhale.
“Yes, yes… yes, please,” she gasped, as loud as always and so needy that his heart raced faster for her.
He smiled despite the tension in his jaw and every muscle taut with restraint, determined not to come too soon. His thumb flicked faster, driving her higher, and she gripped him so hard that his vision blurred.
“Come for me, doll. Come on,” he urged, pleading as much as commanding.
And she obeyed. His very good girl did so.
Her body tensed, suppressing a scream, and then shuddered violently with wave after wave of a strong, delicious climax. Her legs curled around him, gripping him tight, but he kept thrusting, unrelenting. Each movement was intended to push her past reason, past control.
White light overtook her vision. Her body burned with need, set ablaze by him, every nerve strung tight, every inch of her sensitized to his touch.
Jungkook guided her for more. His cock was swollen, burning, pushing inside hardly past her tightening walls, brushing that warm velvet and having her shaking and whimpering until, finally, her tremors began to subside… And his own restraint snapped.
He pulled back suddenly, making her gasp, and flipped her over onto the countertop, her chest pressing against the cold black marble. The contrast of cool stone against heated skin sent shivers through her. Her legs wobbled for a moment, but his hands held her firmly at the hips, grounding her.
She looked over her shoulder at him, her light brown hair tousled around her flushed face. “Oh, now we’re doing this?”
“Oh,” he mocked her and a spank snapped against her ass so hard she yelped. “We’re totally doing this, baby. Gotta see this ass.”
Her laugh turned into a moan as he pushed her thong aside and plunged into her again, deep and filthy, a raw stretch that left her breathless. Her breasts pressed into the marble, fingers clawing at the smooth surface, searching for anything to hold onto.
“Fuck!” she cried, arching her back as he hit every hidden corner inside her, deeper than before.
Jungkook groaned, gripping her hips with both hands so tightly the marks would linger. Every thrust was relentless, wet smacks echoing through the kitchen. For sure this particular sound didn’t unnerve her.
“This is what you wanted, right? Getting naked like this. You wanted me to fuck you like a slut on my counter?”
“Yes!” she moaned, pressing against him, her ass bouncing with every strike.
He leaned over her and his chest pressed into her back deliciously. His voice was a low, primal growl against her ear when he spoke then: “God, your ass… fuck… perfect. Rounder, fuller…” Another smack, gripping one cheek as he drove in. “I’m obsessed. I can’t stop touching you.
She looked over her shoulder at him, wicked grin in place, their breaths mingling in a delicious dance of heat, lust, and fire, even as moans spilled uncontrollably. “You’re drooling again.”
“Obviously… fuck,” he growled, biting her shoulder before straightening, hands firmly on her waist. His rhythm accelerated. Sweatpants hung dangerously low, threatening to slide off entirely.
She could barely breathe; her arms couldn't support her on the marble, and they collapsed. The pleasure swirling through her body became too much, overwhelming her senses. Suddenly, she couldn't even hear herself scream, only the sensation of him filling her deliciously.
And then—just when she thought she couldn’t possibly take any more—she felt it: his hand sliding down her stomach, the brush of tattooed fingers descending until two of them found her clit.
Lisa cried out. She was already raw, over-sensitive, her body pulsing with leftover sparks of pleasure—and yet that touch made her cunt clenching hard like a fist.
Jungkook smiled against her shoulder, the kind of self-satisfied smirk that vibrated through his kiss before he bit gently down the length of her spine. “Sensitive?”
Her answer came out broken, breathless. “You know I am…”
“Good,” he murmured, smug bastard that he was, catching her swollen clit between two fingers. Her legs trembled so violently she nearly slipped, but he didn’t let her fall. He held her steady, body to body, pinning her against the counter as his heat trapped her in place.
Her breasts pressed fully against the cold marble, nipples aching, and her eyes rolled back with every deep, ruthless thrust. His mouth followed the line of her back, worshipful, leaving kisses along her shoulder blades, down her spine, little nips that made her gasp.
Lisa’s moans climbed higher, the sensations multiplying until she couldn’t distinguish one from the next—the cool marble beneath her chest, the rhythmic slap of his hips, the maddening swirl of his fingers on her swollen clit, and those wet, burning kisses.
Her thighs trembled again, instinctively trying to close around his hand, but he wedged his own legs between hers, keeping her open for him, giving his cock the perfect path to drive deeper. Every thrust was precision and cruelty combined, dragging her closer to the edge, over and over again.
She wanted to resist, to make it last—but her body betrayed her.
“Fuck, Jungkook…” she sobbed, nails scraping faintly against the marble as she arched, the sound of her voice breaking apart under the weight of pleasure.
This time, her whole body shook—arms, thighs, even her calves. Her toes curled against the cold floor, fingers tightening into fists, cheek pressed flat against the counter as her pulse thundered in her ears.
He groaned at the way she clenched around him—hot, slick, gripping him tight with each pulsing wave of her orgasm. His mouth stayed on her skin, kissing the curve of her shoulder, licking away the salt of sweat, whispering against her back.
“Good girl… fuck, you’re perfect…”
Lisa came undone, the pleasure almost unbearable, sparks racing up her spine until her entire body lit up in a raw, blinding flash.
She whimpered, trying weakly to push his hand away. “Too much…”
“Not enough,” he countered, nipping the base of her neck before thrusting deep again, grinding his hips against her ass. His cock pressed right against her sweet spot as his fingers circled her clit mercilessly.
Her body convulsed again—another wave hit her so hard she almost sobbed.
Her moans broke into ragged cries, and she barely registered his voice—hoarse, urgent, in her ear. “Come again. Right now. Let me feel you break on me.”
And she did. She shattered. The orgasm tore through her with such intensity she screamed his name, her body spasming around him, wet heat spilling down his length.
The sensation dragged him to the brink instantly. With a guttural curse, Jungkook thrust one final time, burying himself deep as his release flooded into her. His groans were loud and hitched at the end. His movements grew sharp, uneven, desperate, as if he needed to empty every last drop inside her.
Lisa took it all gladly, smiling weakly.
Yeah, that’s what she had been looking for.
They collapsed together against the counter, his chest pressed to her trembling back and his face finding shelter in her neck. Her scent was strong, natural perfume and sex. His nose had a feast. And the way he could feel their heart beating in sync because of how close they were made him hug her tightly.
He knew she was smiling only by the way her cheeks rounded. He nipped on it softly as he always did when he felt slightly feral and overwhelmed and she giggled weakly under him.
Only then his sensitive nose caught the smell of smoke. Lisa didn’t.
He reached out blindly over the counter until finding the button of the stove and turned it off. He didn’t have to look at the eggs and onions to know they were beyond any salvation and they weren’t going to eat anything soon.
“What a distraction you are,” he said lazily, nuzzling her back of her neck.
"You were the one who got distracted first," she retorted, quite bravely despite her weak state. "I was just sitting here, minding my own business."
"Minding your business," he sneered. "You took off your shirt in my kitchen. You spread your legs on my counter. That's not minding your own business. That's a premeditated ambush."
“And you fell for it,” she proudly said and made him giggle.
The music was the only sound again between them as their bodies gathered the strength to move again, but it was taking time. They were both weirdly comfortable in this position against the counter.
But as usual, Lisa had to break the silence: “Show me the two-egg trick again later. Naked this time.”
“Deal,” and he was serious.