Jaemin came home late that night, his briefcase still clutched in one hand, tie loose, eyes tired but warm. Tae forced a sweet smile onto her lips and leaned forward to kiss his cheek, pressing her boobs deliberately against his arm. He didn’t even notice.

They had dinner at the long glass table, Jaemin rambling on about algorithms and new investors while Tae swirled her wine glass, nodding absently. Her eyes glazed over, though her smile stayed fixed. To Jaemin, she was the perfect dutiful wife, soft-spoken and attentive.

Later, they lay in the massive bed, the sheets cool and soft. Jaemin rolled over after a brief, mechanical peck on her lips. Within minutes, his snores filled the room. Tae lay awake, staring at the ceiling, her body restless and hot beneath the satin slip she wore.

Around three in the morning, her throat felt dry. She slid out of bed quietly, careful not to wake him, and padded barefoot down the marble stairs toward the kitchen. The house was dark, shadows long and heavy. She opened the fridge and bent down to grab a bottle of water, the silk of her nightgown sliding up to reveal the curve of her ass.

That’s when she felt it—heat, a presence, a sudden shift of the air behind her.

Her body stiffened. Slowly, she turned.

And her breath caught.

A man leaned against the doorway, tall, broad, his shirt torn and sticking to his bruised chest. His face was sharp, dangerous, but impossibly handsome, with a glint of hunger in his eyes. His lips were split, blood dried along the edge, but the smirk was unmistakable.

He didn’t say a word. He just crossed the distance in two strides and grabbed her wrist, pulling her flush against him. Tae’s pink lips parted in shock, about to scream—

But his mouth crushed against hers.

It was nothing like Jaemin’s dry pecks. His kiss was rough, devouring, his tongue pushing inside, claiming her mouth before she could think. Tae moaned into him, her slutty nature igniting instantly. Her body betrayed her fear. She kissed back hungrily, sucking on his tongue, her hands gripping the hard muscle of his arms.

His palm slid up her ribs, over her huge boob, squeezing it hard through the thin silk. She gasped, grinding against his thigh without meaning to. The other hand dropped to her ass, grabbing a full cheek and squeezing until she whimpered.

Her knees went weak.

When they finally tore apart, both panting, her lips swollen and wet, she whispered hoarsely, “W-who… who are you?”

He smirked, licking his lip. “Jungkook. Escaped from prison tonight.” His voice was low, rough, dripping with danger. “And I’m staying here. Few days. Until I figure out my next move.”

Her eyes widened, fear sparking in them. “Prison…?”

His gaze dropped deliberately down her body. Her nipples were pebbled against the fabric, her thighs pressed tight together, betraying the wet heat between them. His nostrils flared, and he gave a low, amused chuckle. “You’re scared,” he murmured, leaning close, his breath hot against her ear. “But you’re wet. I can smell it.”

Tae’s face burned, her thighs clenching harder. She should scream, should run upstairs to wake Jaemin, but instead she stood frozen, chest heaving, her breath coming in shallow gasps.

Jungkook pulled back just enough to look into her eyes, his fingers still kneading her ass. “I’ll be hiding here,” he said with dark certainty. “And you won’t tell your husband. Understand?”

She nodded quickly, trembling.

But deep inside, her pussy throbbed at his words.