By the time Taehyung walked through the front door, her heart was pounding. She had gotten out of Jungkook’s car down the street, smoothed her hair, fixed her dress, and tried to erase the guilty glow from her face.

Inside, Hana was waiting, arms folded, pretending to look casual but clearly annoyed.

Hana: “Finally. You both took your sweet time.”

Taehyung forced a gentle smile, setting her purse down.

Tae: “The train was delayed… you know how it is.”

Hana: “Mhm.”

Just then, Jungkook came in through the other door, carrying his laptop bag, shirt slightly wrinkled but his expression calm. He kissed Hana’s cheek quickly.

Kook: “Sorry, babe. Meetings ran long.”

Hana rolled her eyes, muttering something about men and their excuses, before heading into the kitchen.

Taehyung’s legs were still weak, her body sore from being fucked on the drive home, and she prayed her daughter couldn’t smell the sex still clinging to her skin. She moved toward the dining table, trying to sit and collect herself.

But Jungkook followed, his eyes dark, hungry. He slid into the chair beside her instead of across, his thigh pressing firmly against hers.

Tae (whispering): “Kook—stop. She’s right there.”

Kook (smirking): “So? Makes me hard just thinking about it.”

His hand slipped under the table, warm and possessive on her bare thigh. She stiffened, glancing nervously toward the kitchen, but Hana was busy with her phone, scrolling.

Kook: “Spread them for me.”

Tae: “No—Kook…”

Kook (low, dangerous): “Now, Tae.”

Her body betrayed her, legs parting slowly. His hand slid higher, fingers brushing against her thong, already damp.

Kook: “Fuck… still wet from earlier. You love this too much.”

Tae: “You’re insane—she’ll see—”

Kook: “Then keep your voice down while I finger this pretty cunt.”

He slid two fingers under the thin fabric, plunging them deep inside her. She bit down on her lip hard, fighting the moan that bubbled up. Her hands clutched the edge of the table as his fingers worked her, curling just right, his thumb circling her clit.

From the kitchen, Hana’s voice called out casually:

Hana: “Mom, do you want tea?”

Taehyung’s eyes squeezed shut.

Tae (strained): “N-No, honey… I’m fine.”

Jungkook smirked, pumping faster, watching her body tremble. He leaned close, whispering against her ear.

Kook: “Imagine if she walks in and sees you cumming on my fingers under her table. You’d never live it down.”

She shuddered, tears prickling her eyes as she came silently, clenching hard around him, her body shaking. He pulled his fingers out slick with her cum, brought them to his lips, and sucked them clean with a satisfied groan.

Later, after Hana went upstairs to shower, Taehyung tried to escape to her room, but Jungkook cornered her against the wall in the hallway.

Tae: “Kook—please, not here…”

Kook: “I can’t stop. One taste and I’m addicted.”

He pressed his body against hers, grinding his hard cock through his pants. His mouth claimed hers, hot and messy, his hands roaming under her dress, groping her ass.

Kook: “This house, that lake house, the car—I don’t give a fuck. You’re mine everywhere, Tae.”

Tae: “You’ll ruin me…”

Kook: “No. I’ll make you pregnant. That’s all I care about.”

Her body trembled, torn between fear and desire, but when his mouth kissed down her throat, she tilted her head back, giving in once again.