Yoongi gripped Mimi’s hips and flipped her onto her back with a single rough motion. She gasped as her oil-slicked skin squeaked against the mat, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist before her mind could protest.

Their mouths crashed together—messy, desperate—her cherry gloss smearing across his lips as his tongue plunged deep. The kiss tasted like salt and iron, wrong and electric, her moan vibrating against his teeth. He bit her lower lip hard enough to make her whimper, and the sting only made her arch closer, her nails raking down his back.