The Bentley's leather seats smelled like Jungkook's cologne and sin. Tae squirmed against the seatbelt, her soaked thong sticking to her freshly-scrubbed folds as Parisian lights streaked past the tinted windows. Jungkook's fingers drummed along her thigh—a silent countdown to destruction. "See that?" He pointed toward their hotel silhouetted against the Eiffel Tower's glittering spire. Tae whimpered, her nails digging into his wrist. "That's where Daddy's gonna ruin you properly."

——