These days, the thrill of risky fucks had Jungkook hooked—like a drug he couldn’t quit. Sneaking around, the constant edge of getting caught, it made every thrust feel electric. And Tae? She was addicted too, no denying it. Her body betrayed her every time: pussy clenching at the mere thought of Hajun walking in, heart racing with guilt and lust twisted together. She’d tell herself it was the blackmail keeping her coming back, but deep down, she craved the danger, the way Kook owned her in the most forbidden places.

One evening, Tae was in the kitchen humming softly, stirring a pot of kimchi jjigae for dinner. Hajun would be home soon—texted he was leaving the office in 20. She wore a tiny apron over a short sundress, tits nearly spilling out the top, ass peeking from the hem when she bent over. No panties, of course—habit now, thanks to Kook’s demands. The doorbell rang, startling her. Delivery? She wiped her hands, padded over, and opened it.