The neon lights of the club flickered behind him as Kim Namjoon stumbled out into the cold night air. His tie was askew, and the crumpled collar of his shirt revealed a hint of the chaos that lay beneath his usual stoic façade. He had spent the evening drowning his frustrations in a bottle of whiskey, the amber liquid fueling the fire that burned in his gut every time he thought about her. YN, the one who had the audacity to look at him with those doe eyes and think she could get away with it.

The one who didn't know the monster that lurked beneath his tailored suits and calculated smiles.

He slammed the door of his sleek black sedan, the sound echoing through the empty parking lot. The engine roared to life, and he sped through the deserted streets, the wind whipping through his hair, bringing with it the scent of rain.

His thoughts were a tumultuous storm, swirling around the one constant in his life his unyielding hatred for YN. He didn't know why she affected him so, but every time she was near, it was as if she could see through the layers of his carefully constructed armor, straight to the turmoil that churned within him.

As he pulled up to the mansion that served as both his fortress and his prison, the headlights cast a brief illumination on the figure waiting for him on the porch. It was her, YN, wrapped in a thin jacket that did little to protect her from the chill. Her eyes widened as she took in his disheveled appearance, and a smirk played on her lips. "Looks like someone had a bit too much to drink," she said, her voice carrying a hint of mockery.

Namjoon's grip on the steering wheel tightened until his knuckles turned white. He climbed out of the car, his movements precise despite his inebriation. He slammed the door shut with enough force to make the windows rattle. "I'm sober enough to kill," he snarled, his voice low and menacing.

YN took a step back, the smirk fading into a look of surprise. She hadn't expected his response to be quite so intense. "You smell like a killer type," she quipped, trying to maintain her cool.

Namjoon's gaze bore into hers, the anger in his eyes palpable. "Is that what you want?" he growled, taking a step closer. "To see me at my worst?" He could feel the rage building within him, a beast desperate to break free from its cage.

"No," she whispered, her voice barely audible. But it was too late for apologies or explanations. The moment hung between them, thick with tension and unspoken desires.

With a sudden jerk, Namjoon grabbed her by the waist, spinning her around to face him. His grip was firm, but there was something else in his touch that sent a shiver down her spine. It was a blend of anger and something else, something darker, something that called to the part of her she didn't dare acknowledge.

"You want to see what you do to me?" he spat, his breath hot against her ear. "You want to see what you make me?"

Before she could answer, he crushed his lips to hers, the kiss a furious mix of anger and lust. It was a declaration of war, a claiming of territory. His hands roamed over her body, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. This was not a kiss of love-it was a battle hate, a violent melding of two souls dancing on the edge of a cliff.

YN's body responded despite her mind screaming for her to push him away. Her hands found purchase on his broad shoulders, her nails digging into his skin.

But instead of fighting, she pulled him closer, matching the ferocity of his kiss with her own.

He pushed her against the cold brick of the house, his hands fisting in her hair as he deepened the kiss. His teeth nipped at her lower lip, and she gasped, the pain sending a thrill through her. The rain began to fall, soaking them both, but they remained locked in their passionate embrace, the storm outside a reflection of the tempest raging within.

Namjoon's hands slid down to her hips, lifting her up so she had no choice but to wrap her legs around his waist. He carried her into the house, not breaking the kiss once, and up the stairs to his room. The door slammed shut behind them, the sound echoing through the otherwise silent mansion. He set her down on the bed, his eyes never leaving hers as he began to undress her with an urgency that was both frightening and exhilarating.

Her jacket fell to the floor, followed by her shirt and bra. He took a moment to appreciate the sight of her bare breasts, the perfect mounds with their hardened peaks that begged for his attention His hands found their way to them, roughly kneading the soft flesh as he stepped closer, his own clothing discarded haphazardly.

The rain pounded against the windowpanes, a rhythmic backdrop to their escalating passion. He pushed her back onto the bed, his weight pinning her down as he trailed his mouth down her neck, his teeth and tongue leaving a path of goosebumps. His hands continued to explore, moving down her body to the button of her jeans.

As Namjoon's lips traveled back to hers, he murmured against her mouth, "You're playing with fire, YN."

YN smirked against his lips. "Good thing I like the heat."

For a moment, it felt like the world had disappeared, like nothing else mattered except for the two of them. But as Namjoon pulled away, his eyes searching hers, the cold reality hit. He was still Namjoon, the mafia boss who didn't care about anything or anyone. And YN was still the girl who thought she could handle him.

With a quick flick of his wrist, he undid the button and zipper, sliding the denim and her underwear down her legs in one swift motion. He stepped back, admiring the way she lay before him, vulnerable and exposed. His own pants were quickly removed, revealing his arousal.

He climbed onto the bed, his body hovering over hers, the heat of his skin searing hers. "This isn't love," he murmured, his voice a dark promise. "This is anger. This is hate. This is what you do to me."

Her eyes searched his, looking for any semblance of the tender feelings she knew he denied. But all she found was the storm in his gaze, a storm that mirrored her own tumultuous emotions. She didn't respond, instead letting her body speak for her as she arched up to meet him, inviting him to take her in the most primal way possible.

He didn't need a second invitation. He shoved his dick into her mouth saying

"You talk so much and that irritate me a lot..."

YN became breathless in between but he don't stop and then after some time he pull-out his dick from her mouth and said "Due to you I'm drunk, so handle me now

And with one powerful thrust, he entered her, the sensation of her tightness around him sending a shockwave of pleasure through his body.

The sound of their bodies colliding filled the room, punctuated by their ragged breaths and the occasional moan torn from their throats.

"You're mine," he growled, his eyes never leaving hers. "Mine to use. Mine to despise." Each word was a hammer, driving home his possession of her in that moment. YN bit her lip, the pain mixing with the pleasure, creating a cocktail of sensation that was almost too much to bear.

"Is this what you want?" she spat back, her nails raking down his back. "To fuck me like you hate me?"

"Yes," he hissed, his hips moving faster, harder. "This is what you do to me. You drive me insane."

Their bodies moved together in a frenzied dance, each thrust a declaration of his anger, each gasp of her breath a silent plea for more. His fingers found her neck, wrapping around it gently, but with enough force to make her pulse jump. He could feel the heat building within him, the beast inside him demanding release.

YN's own anger began to surface, fueling her movements. She wrapped her legs tighter around him, her heels digging into his back, urging him deeper, faster. "Take it," she snarled. "Take what you want from me."

Their eyes locked, the storm in their gazes a silent battleground.

The hate between them was a tangible force, wrapping around them,

feeding their passion. It was a dance of power and submission, a

war of wills that neither wanted to win nor lose.

The bed groaned beneath their weight, the headboard banging against the wall in time with their frenetic rhythm. Namjoon's grip on her neck tightened, the pressure just shy of painful. "You make me so fucking crazy," he murmured, his voice strained with effort.

"Good," she panted, her voice a challenge. "Make me feel it."

He did. With each plunge into her, he made her feel the full force of his anger, his frustration, his need to dominate. And she reveled in it, her body responding in a way it never had before. The lines between love and hate blurred until they were indistinguishable, until all that remained was the raw, animalistic need for release.

Their movements grew more erratic, their breaths more desperate. The rain outside was a cacophony, a symphony of passion and fury that mirrored their own internal tempest. The tension built, a crescendo of pleasure and pain that coiled tighter and tighter until-

With a roar that was more beast than man, Namjoon reached his climax, his body shuddering with the force of it. He collapsed onto her, his weight pressing her into the mattress as he caught his breath. For a moment, the only sound was the thunderous pounding of their hearts and the steady patter of the rain outside.

Namjoon took a step back, his chest heaving as he ran a hand through his hair. "This-" he gestured between them, his voice hoarse. "This doesn't change anything."

YN blinked, her mind still reeling from the intensity of the moment. "What?"

Namjoon's eyes hardened, all the warmth from earlier gone. "You're still nothing to me, YN. Don't get any ideas."

YN's heart dropped at his words, but she quickly masked her hurt with a smirk. "Who said I wanted anything more, Namjoon?"

But even as the storm inside him began to subside, the anger remained, a smoldering ember that would never truly die out. He rolled off her, his back to her, and lit a cigarette. The embers glowed in the darkness, casting eerie shadows across the room.

YN lay there, her body still trembling, her mind reeling from the intensity of the encounter. She didn't know what she felt love, hate, or something in between. All she knew was that she craved more of the chaos that was Namjoon, even if it meant letting him destroy her in the process.

She knew Namjoon was trying to push her away, but after tonight, she also knew something had shifted between them.

Whether Namjoon would admit it or not, something had changed. And YN wasn't about to back down now.

To be continued
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