69. Bound Without Touch

Prove me wrong Pookies!!!

This chapter's comments won't cross 200.

I dare you! 😏

_________

Enjoy 🌸

The new day brought new torture for Kim Taehyung.

The late morning sun filtered through the sheer curtains but for Taehyung, the morning light held no solace. He stepped into the bedroom, his composure slipping when his eyes landed on Jungkook.

Jungkook stood in front of the mirror. Her reflection was a vision of elegance that instantly had his breath hitching. Freshly showered, her damp hair clung to her shoulders, water beads catching the light like diamonds. Droplets of water clung to her neck and shoulders, tracing delicate paths down her skin.

Each drop was a silent torment to Taehyung's already fraying composure.

His attention was captured entirely by the sight before him—Jungkook standing in front of the mirror, her reflection nothing short of a siren's spell.

The dress Jungkook wore was a bold crimson, clinging to her curves in all the right places, flowing down her body like liquid fire.

The rich crimson fabric hugged her petite frame perfectly, the neckline dipping just low enough to highlight the curve of her cleavage, framed by delicate puffed short sleeves that added demure elegance to the otherwise daring design.

The dress cinched at her waist in a corset-like fit, highlighting her petite figure with fine lacing that crisscrossed down her back, tying at the base of her spine.

The fitted bodice flowed into a voluminous skirt that flared out from her waist like a modern fairytale princess.

But it wasn't the front of the dress that left Taehyung frozen in place—it was the back.

The true masterpiece lay in the back.

Completely backless, the dress revealed the smooth expanse of her glowing skin, the design framed by pearl strings that crisscrossed her spine in an intricate pattern. Each movement she made caused the strings to sway gently, emitting faint, musical chimes that echo in Taehyung's chest.

The sound was as if designed to tempt him closer, knowing full well he couldn't touch.

Without any makeup, her natural beauty shone through, her flushed cheeks and slightly parted lips adding to the spellbinding allure. Jungkook stood there like a siren, fully aware of the power she wielded, her innocent smile belying the deliberate torment she inflicted on her husband with each subtle move.

Taehyung couldn't look away, his composure utterly shattered as his eyes traced the exposed expanse of her back, the arch of her spine framed perfectly by the shimmering design. The slight movement of her hands caused the pearls to sway, adding an hypnotic rhythm to the torture.

Jungkook reached up, her slender fingers sweeping her damp hair over one shoulder to let it dry. The movement was slow and devastating. Her exposed back arched slightly as she leaned closer to the mirror, inspecting her reflection with a innocence that Taehyung knew was anything but.

Jungkook was a vision of natural allure and understated sensuality—bare of artifice, yet impossibly captivating.

And Jungkook knew it.

Taehyung's breath hitched audibly, his grip tightening on the doorframe as he fought for control. His sharp eyes followed the trail of a single water droplet as it slid down the curve of her neck, across her shoulder blade, and disappeared beneath the line of pearls.

Jungkook's gaze flicked up to the mirror, her dark eyes meeting his through the reflection. A slow smile curved her lips, her bare face only enhancing the mischief in her expression. She didn't say a word—she didn't need to.

The silent challenge in her eyes was clear: How long can you hold out, Mr. Kim?

"Good morning, Mr. Kim," Jungkook said sweetly, her voice soft yet laced with defiance. She turned her head slightly, tilting it just enough to let her hair tumble in soft waves down her exposed shoulder.

Taehyung swallowed hard, willing himself to stay composed. "Good morning," he replied, his voice low though the strain was evident in the way he spoke.

Jungkook turning her attention back to her hair as if she hadn't just noticed his internal meltdown. She ran her fingers through the damp strands painfully slow, tilting her head again to give him another perfect view of her neck and back.

The strings chimed faintly as she moved, and Taehyung's hands curled into fists at his sides. His sharp gaze flicked to the brooch at her neckline, then to the bare expanse of her back, then to her serene, teasing expression.

Jungkook dabbed at her damp hair, her every motion languid like a siren teasing her prey.

"You seem tense," Jungkook said, her lips quirking as she glanced at him through the mirror. "Did you not sleep well?"

"I slept fine," he said, though his clenched jaw betrayed the lie.

Jungkook hummed as if unconvinced, setting the towel aside and letting her fingers run through her damp hair. The movement was innocent enough, yet somehow devastating, as her damp locks framed her glowing face and cascaded over her bare shoulders.

Taehyung went near the bookshelf, his jaw locking. His focus—or lack thereof—was evident as he flipped aimlessly through the pages, his attention completely stolen by the crimson-clad vision before him.

When Jungkook turned to face him fully, the room seemed to still. The voluminous skirt of her dress swayed slightly with her movement, pooling gracefully at her feet.

The square neckline framed her collarbones perfectly, and the crystal strings on her back caught the morning light, creating tiny rainbows that danced across the walls. Jungkook grabbed her purse and stuffed her cards and some cash into it.

"Are you going somewhere?" Taehyung asked, his voice strained but deceptively calm. He turned back to the bookshelf, flipping through the documents in his hand, though his grip tightened visibly.

"Yes," Jungkook answered with a soft smile.

"A date."

Taehyung froze, the words hitting him like a sudden cold wind. His grip on the document tightened as his knuckles whitened. Slowly, he turned to face her, his sharp gaze locking onto Jungkook.

"A date?" he repeated, his tone dangerously calm, though the disbelief in his eyes betrayed him.

Jungkook nodded, her lips quirking into an innocent smile. She smoothed the delicate folds of her dress, her fingers brushing along the fabric as if she weren't fully aware of the chaos she was causing.

"Yes," she said softly, tilting her head just slightly, the motion sending her soft hair cascading over her shoulders. "A date."

Then, Jungkook sat before the mirror, her damp hair cascading like a dark waterfall over her shoulders. Her slender fingers combed through the silky strands, detangling them gently. She picked up a wooden brush, running it through her hair in smooth strokes.

"And who," Taehyung asked slowly, his voice dropping to a gravelly tone, "is this date with?"

Jungkook's lips twitched, but she suppressed the grin threatening to spread. She toyed with the strands of her hair, her lashes fluttering coyly as she looked down, feigning shyness. "Oh, just someone," she murmured, her voice light and nonchalant.

Taehyung took a step closer, the air in the room suddenly heavier. "Someone," he echoed, his brows furrowing.

Jungkook finally met his gaze, and the innocence in her eyes was laced with a mischievous glint. She reached for a silver moon-shaped clip. Holding it delicately between her fingers, she swept a section of her hair back, pinning it securely with the clip just above her ear.

The crescent moon sparkled faintly under the morning light, perfectly framing her gentle features.

"Yes, someone," the wife said, her tone teasing. "Why do you look so tense, Mr. Kim? It's just a date."

Next, Jungkook selected a smaller flower-shaped clip. She gathered another small section of her hair and fastened it neatly. Satisfied, Jungkook adjusted the clips slightly, ensuring they were perfectly placed. She let the rest of her hair fall naturally down her back. Her hair, still slightly damp, caught the light, giving her an ethereal glow that made her look effortlessly stunning.

Taehyung exhaled sharply through his nose, his control fraying at the edges. He closed the distance between them, his towering frame making her feel even smaller. His eyes darkened as he leaned down, just close enough for her to catch his musky scent.

"I asked with whom?" he demanded, his possessive nature bubbling to the surface despite his effort to remain composed.

Jungkook stood up from the chair and turned to face her husband.

"Does it matter?" Jungkook asked, feigning ignorance as she adjusted the brooch nestled just above her cleavage. The slight motion drew his gaze, and he swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing.

"Yes," he said firmly, his tone brooking no argument. His eyes narrowed slightly as he assessed her, his possessive instincts warring with the knowledge that he couldn't act on them.

Jungkook took a step closer, her bare feet brushing against the hem of her dress. She stopped just shy of his reach, her lips quirking into a playful smirk.

"Don't worry, Mr. Kim," she said softly, her voice a seductive melody, tilting her head up to meet his gaze. "It's nothing serious."

"Nothing serious?" Taehyung's tone sharpened, his eyes narrowing.

Jungkook bit her lip to suppress a giggle, loving the way his composure was unraveling. She turned slightly, giving him a better view of her bare back adorned with pearl strings that clinked softly with her movement.

The sound taunted him, each delicate chime fraying his resolve.

Jungkook picked up a delicate bottle of perfume from her vanity, the glass catching the sunlight and sending tiny rainbows onto the walls. With a graceful tilt of her wrist, she spritzed the floral scent onto her neck, the mist settling over her skin like dew.

The action wasn't particularly provocative, but the way she tilted her head to expose the curve of her neck made Taehyung's jaw tighten.

"Why are you watching me so closely, Mr. Kim?" Jungkook asked softly, glancing at him through the mirror, her tone carrying a hint of teasing innocence.

Taehyung didn't answer immediately, his gaze lingering on her every movement.

Jungkook placed the perfume bottle down before picking up a tiny jar of lip gloss. She unscrewed the cap, her slender fingers making the action seem almost indulgent and dipped the applicator into the glossy liquid.

Turning back to the mirror, she leaned in slightly, her lips parting as she carefully swiped the gloss over them. The soft shine highlighted her already plush lips and she pressed them together lightly, creating a faint popping sound.

Taehyung's breathing hitched, though he covered it quickly by clearing his throat.

"Don't you think this shade is pretty?" Jungkook asked, holding the gloss up to inspect it, though she didn't wait for his response.

Jungkook reached for a dainty bracelet on the vanity, a single crystal charm dangling from the chain. She fastened it, the soft chime of the charm breaking the heavy silence in the room.

Finally, Jungkook grabbed her purse and turned to face him, her hands brushing over the fabric of her dress one last time as if to smooth out nonexistent creases. Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she tilted her head slightly.

"You don't like my dress?" she asked, her voice laced with faux innocence.

Taehyung stepped closer, his frame towering over her petite form. His gaze was dark, tracing the square neckline of her dress before lingering on the brooch at her cleavage, which shimmered with every slight movement.

"That's not the point," he said gruffly, his tone sharp yet strained.

"I think it's a lovely choice for a date," she added, the corners of her lips lifting into a teasing smile. She adjusted the straps on her dress slightly, the movement inadvertently drawing his attention to her bare shoulders and collarbones.

Taehyung's jaw tightened further, the vein in his neck pulsing visibly as he leaned in just slightly, his broad shoulders casting a shadow over her.

"Tell me who it is," he demanded, his voice low and dangerous, barely masking the storm brewing within him.

Jungkook blinked up at him, feigning wide-eyed innocence, though the slight curve of her lips gave away her mischief.

"Why are you so curious, Mr. Kim?" Jungkook asked softly.

Taehyung's eyes burned with possessiveness, his composure hanging by a thread.

"Because," he said, his voice stable but laced with a dangerous edge, "you're my wife, and I have the right to know."

Jungkook's lips curled into a soft smile, though the rapid fluttering of her heart betrayed her poise. She turned her gaze back to the mirror, pretending to fuss with the moon clip in her hair. Her cheeks flushed faintly, not from shyness but from the thrill of provoking the stoic man behind her.

"Your wife?" she repeated softly, her voice carrying a playful lilt. "Of course, I am, Mr. Kim. But surely, that doesn't mean you get to know all my secrets."

Her eyes flicked to his reflection in the mirror, meeting his intense gaze. Taehyung's jaw clenched, and his knuckles whitened as he fisted, his control slipping with every second she toyed with him.

Jungkook bit her bottom lip gently. "I suppose," she mused, her voice light and teasing, "a little curiosity never hurt anyone. But jealousy, Mr. Kim... that's a different story."

Her eyes sparkled with mischief and Jungkook strode toward the door, her skirt swishing softly around her ankles with every step. She reached out, her delicate fingers grazing the doorknob—only for it to slip from her grasp as the door suddenly swung shut on its own.

The sharp sound of the door clicking into place echoed through the room and Jungkook froze.

Her brows furrowed as she turned the knob again, her fingers twisting it futilely.

Nothing.

Jungkook tried once more, her grip tightening but it wouldn't budge.

And then, before her wide eyes, the door began to shift, the wood fading like smoke dispersing into thin air, leaving behind nothing but a blank wall.

Her breath caught, and Jungkook blinked in disbelief. "What the..." she whispered, her voice trailing off, gaze darting around the wall in search of an explanation.

Her answer came in the form of a low, rich chuckle that sent a shiver down her spine.

Jungkook turned and was dazed for a second.

And there he was—Taehyung—leaning casually against the vanity, his tall frame relaxed but oozing an unquestionable charm. In his hands, he toyed with a silk tie, his long fingers trailing over the smooth fabric.

He wasn't looking directly at Jungkook, not yet.

His gaze was focused on the tie, his lips curving into a slow smirk as he began to hum softly, the melody low and sensual.

When he finally raised his eyes to meet hers, it wasn't just a look—it was a challenge

| Low-quality picture with high-quality men |

"Going somewhere, Mrs. Kim?" he asked, his voice a velvet murmur that sent a shiver down her spine.

Jungkook straightened, trying to mask the sudden flutter of her heart. The wife felt an involuntary shiver course through her, though she refused to let it show.

"What did you do to the door?" Jungkook asked, her voice faltering slightly under his smouldering gaze.

Taehyung chuckled softly, the sound rich and knowing. He pushed off the vanity, his broad shoulders moving, the silk tie in his hand swaying lazily with his steps. He took one step forward, then another, closing the distance between them.

"Strange, isn't it?" he mused, his tone deceptively casual. "Almost as if someone doesn't want you to leave."

Jungkook's cheeks flushed, her fingers fidgeting slightly as she tried to maintain her composure.

"What are you doing?" she asked again, her voice quieter.

Taehyung didn't answer. Instead, he let the moment stretch, the silence thick with something unspoken. Then, with the smooth cadence of a poet lost in his art, he began to recite—his voice a slow-burning ember in the dimly lit room.

"A moonlit gaze, a fleeting sigh,
The pull of you, I can't deny.
A touch of silk, a puff of fire,
You're the only dream I desire."

His steps were slow as he began to move closer. The tie in his hand slipped through his fingers, the faint swish of the fabric the only sound accompanying his voice.

"A gentle breeze, a whispered plea,
You draw me in, then set me free.
Your every move, your every sway,
Keeps my heart just one beat away."

Jungkook stood rooted to the spot as she listened. The lyrics weren't overtly salacious, yet every word felt as if it was meant for her alone, incorporating a tension between them that was impossible to ignore.

Her fingers curled into her palms, her breath shallow.

"A dove in flight, so pure, so free,
Yet tethered by the storm of me.
A siren's call, a perilous hymn,
You pull me under, I cannot swim."

Taehyung stopped just a step away, his eyes never leaving hers as he sang the final lines. His voice was lower now, intimate, as if he were speaking to her soul rather than just her ears. Jungkook's chest tightened with his words, the power of his presence.

His eyes never wavered, holding her gaze with an intensity that felt as if they were sharing a secret.

"A love untamed, a fire untold,
I'd give the world just to hold,
The light of you, my sweetest sin,
The battle lost, yet I still win."

Jungkook's breath hitched as he finished the last line, his voice dipping lower, so close now that she could feel the warmth of his breath against her skin. Jungkook's heart pounded in her chest, and she took a small, shaky step back, her breath uneven.

"What... are you doing?" she whispered, her voice trembling, caught between defiance and surrender.

Taehyung tilting his head, his smirk softening into something more dangerous. His eyes searching hers, reading her every reaction.

"Reminding you, my little siren, that doves may try to fly," he let the silk tie slip fully into his palm, "but they always return to the hand that knows how to cherish them."

Jungkook opened her mouth to respond, but no words came out. Instead, she turned her gaze downward, only for her eyes to catch on the silk tie in his hands. Her mind raced, her pulse quickening as his proximity overwhelmed her senses.

Taehyung tilted his head slightly, his smirk softening into something more playful. "What's the matter?" he teased, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Cat got your tongue?"

Her cheeks burned. Instinctively, she stepped back—but the realization struck almost immediately. There was nowhere to go. The door was gone or maybe it had never been there at all. The room had grown smaller, as if his presence alone had consumed all the space, all the air, all of her reason.

Jungkook swallowed hard. She cleared her throat, straightening despite the tremor in her hands, forcing herself to meet his gaze.

"This is unfair, Mr. Kim," she said, her voice trembling slightly but still carrying defiance.

"You can't just—"

"Can't just what?" Taehyung interrupted smoothly, twirling the tie around his finger. His gaze locked onto hers. "Remind you that you're mine?"

Her breath hitched.

His words acted like a rope, pulling tight, threatening to unravel the fragile space she had tried to put between them. Her heart pounded, her resolve flickering dangerously as the temptation to step forward, to close that distance, became almost unbearable.

Then, Taehyung lifted the silk tie in his hand, his fingers brushing over the smooth fabric. His gaze never left hers—not once.

And then, he wrapped the tie around her neck, the soft material resting just above her collarbones.

Jungkook's breath hitched at the unexpected gesture, her heart hammering in her chest as the cool silk sent a shiver down her spine. The tie hung loosely around her neck, its ends resting against her chest.

"Can't just what?" Taehyung repeated, his voice a low rumble that sent warmth pooling in her stomach.

He let his hands slip down, fingers brushing the silk, slow, controlled. Then, with the slightest pressure, he tugged.

Jungkook gasped as she stumbled forward, her body betraying her before her mind could catch up. The movement was effortless, like the tide answering the call of the moon—inevitable.

The distance between them closed in an instant, yet the lack of contact only heightened the tension. There was still space between them, but it felt nonexistent.

She felt breathless. Not because of the tie, not because of his proximity—because of him. Because of the way he looked at her, as if she were something delicate yet untamed, a thing meant to be adored but never caged.

Jungkook's eyes widened, her lips parting as she struggled to find her breath. Her body betrayed her resolve, heat blossoming under her skin despite the lack of his touch.

"M-Mr. Kim..." Jungkook stammered, her fingers curling slightly at her sides, unsure of whether to push away or hold on.

Taehyung tilted his head slightly, his smirk deepening as he observed her. His broad shoulders and towering frame radiated power, the kind of control that left no room for resistance.

"Yes, Mrs. Kim?" he asked smoothly. His fingers gripped the tie firmly, keeping her close, though his hands remained at a calculated distance from her skin. His dark eyes bore into hers, the intensity of his gaze almost overwhelming.

Jungkook's mind raced, but no coherent words formed. The way he looked at her—as though she were the only thing in the world worth his attention—made her knees weak.

Jungkook's heart pounded. She licked her lips, her mind racing for words, for logic, for air.

"This..." she began, but the syllable barely escaped before it crumbled.

"This?" Taehyung repeated, his lips curling into a knowing smirk. His fingers gripped the end of the tie lightly, giving it a subtle tug that brought her an inch closer.

"Unfair, wasn't it?" he said, echoing her earlier words. "But tell me, Mrs. Kim..." His tone dropped, velvet smooth, "...when have you ever played fair?"

Jungkook's lashes fluttered. Her mind swirled with a thousand thoughts, yet all she could focus on was him—his grip on the tie, his commanding posture, and the way his gaze never wavered, pinning her in place like she belonged nowhere else.

Her fingers twitched at her sides, unsure whether they longed to push him away or curl into his shirt.

"You feel that?" His voice was softer now, edged with something more intimate. He tugged the tie just enough—just enough to tilt her forward, their breaths mingling, her lashes trembling with the nearness of him.

"That fire, the tension? That's all you, Jungkook. You're the one who started this game."

Jungkook couldn't find the words, her confidence cracking under his focus. She parted her lips, her mind blank, her body traitorous in the way it leaned toward him, like a flower seeking light.

"I—" But no words came.

Taehyung chuckled, and the sound was soft, indulgent, entirely too knowing. It made her inhale sharply, her fingers clenching at nothing, her pulse erratic.

"Too much for you?" he teased. "I warned you, didn't I?"

Jungkook swallowed hard, her cheeks aflame as she averted her gaze, though she couldn't move away. She felt like a moth drawn to a flame, captivated by his every move, even as the heat threatened to consume her.

Jungkook clenched her fists at her sides, determined to regain some semblance of control.

"You can't... win like this," she whispered, though even she wasn't sure she believed her own words.

Taehyung leaned in just slightly, mindful of the invisible barrier between them, his deep voice a whisper that sent a shiver down her spine.

"Win?" he echoed, his tone soft yet laced with dominance. "Darling, this isn't about winning. It's about reminding you..." He paused, his eyes dipping briefly to the tie around her neck before meeting her gaze again. "...that every move you make is mine to counter."

Her lips parted, her breath shallow as his words settled over her.

Taehyung's fingers ghosted over the silk, his touch never meeting her skin, yet she felt him everywhere.

With excruciating slowness, he slid the tie across her back.

The cool fabric dragged over her bare spine, making her shudder. The soft pressure sent tingles down her arms, a slow burn unfurling deep within her. The delicate pearls that adorned her dress clinked softly against each other, the sound barely audible over the pounding of her heart.

Jungkook sucked in a sharp breath, her hands instinctively reaching forward—almost touching him, almost—before she clenched her fists at her sides.

No. She couldn't. They couldn't.

But God, she wanted to.

Taehyung's movements were unhurried, he reveled in her unraveling. The silk skimmed lower, brushing just above her waist, and Jungkook's breath hitched. She swayed, her knees threatening to betray her, but she forced herself to stand still. Her nails dug into her palms.

"Sensitive, aren't you?" he mused, tilting his head, his dark eyes heavy with something dangerous. "Just the thought of my touch is enough to make you tremble."

Jungkook bit her lower lip, a desperate attempt to stop the soft sound that almost escaped her throat.

But he saw it. He always saw everything.

Taehyung exhaled slowly, his breath fanning over her cheek as he leaned closer—close enough that she felt the phantom heat of his body, yet not a single inch of him touched hers.

It was maddening.

The silk dipped lower, trailing down her spine like a teasing caress. Jungkook shivered, her head tilting back slightly, lips parting as if chasing something she couldn't quite name.

"T-Taehyung..." she whispered, his name falling from her lips in a breathless plea.

His grip on the tie tightened just slightly.

"Yes, Mrs. Kim?" His voice was soft, indulgent, as if savoring the way she melted without even needing to lay a hand on her.

Jungkook's fingers twitched, aching to grasp onto something—his shirt, his wrist, his tie—anything to ground herself.

But this damn curse of No touching.

Jungkook closed her eyes for a moment, trying to catch her breath but the moment she did, the silk moved again, dragging over her shoulder, making the pearls shift and clatter in a delicate symphony of restraint.

Her lashes fluttered open, locking onto his gaze.

His smirk was gone now.

All that was left was raw intensity.

Jungkook exhaled shakily. Her body betrayed her, her breath uneven, her pulse wild beneath her skin.

Taehyung tilted his head, studying her like an artist admiring a masterpiece.

Jungkook's back hit the wall before she even realized she had moved. Her fingers splayed against the cold surface, seeking stability, though nothing could steady the wildfire raging beneath her skin.

And then, he moved.

Taehyung leaned in, bracing one arm beside her head, the other hovering near her waist—never touching, yet close enough that she felt caged in, his presence pressing into every inch of space around her.

His lips curled into something sinful as he studied her, eyes dark, predatory.

"This dress," he murmured, his voice dipping into a smooth molten timbre, "does things to a man, Jungkook."

His gaze dragged over her body, lingering at the dip of her waist before traveling up—slow, unrushed, savoring.

"The way it clings here—" His breath ghosted over her collarbone, close enough to feel but never close enough to touch. "—and leaves so much bare there."

Jungkook swallowed hard, her back pressing deeper against the wall as his eyes flickered down to her cleavage. The pearl strings on her back quivered with every unsteady breath she took, a delicate sound in the thick silence between them.

Taehyung hummed, tilting his head slightly. "Do you have any idea what I'd do to you if we didn't have this no-touching rule?"

Jungkook's breath hitched. The space between them felt nonexistent, the heat of his body wrapping around her despite the fact that he still hadn't touched her.

His fingers twitched at his sides as if fighting restraint. His voice, already low, dipped lower. "I'd start by making you forget every single name but mine."

Jungkook's lashes fluttered as his words crashed into her like a tidal wave.

"I'd take that stubborn defiance of yours..." Taehyung's breath skimmed the shell of her ear, his lips so close that the warmth curled around her skin, making her shiver. "...and turn it into something much sweeter."

Her knees threatened to buckle. She gripped the wall behind her, desperate for an anchor, but nothing—not even the cold surface—could cool the heat pulsing through her.

Taehyung let out a quiet, knowing chuckle, watching the way her body betrayed her.

"But we do have these damn rules," he murmured, his voice a slow caress against her senses. His fingers twitched again, the only sign of his own restraint.

Jungkook exhaled sharply, her chest rising and falling in shallow bursts.

"And for now," Taehyung's gaze flickered to her lips, lingering just a second too long before he straightened, pulling back ever so slightly, "I'll let you go."

Except he hadn't touched her.

And yet, she felt utterly ruined.

Jungkook shivered, her breath coming in short bursts as his words lingered in the air. The tables had completely turned, leaving her utterly at his mercy. And despite the lack of physical contact, the burn of his presence felt more consuming than ever.

"One more thing," Taehyung began, his voice low like a predator circling its prey, testing how far it could push before the inevitable surrender.

Jungkook barely had time to steady her breath before his next words came, each syllable drawn out, measured—dangerous.

"Who is this date with, Mrs. Kim?"

Jungkook swallowed, the dry lump in her throat making it difficult to speak. The air between them had thickened, pressing against her skin like an invisible force, every inhale feeling heavier.

She parted her lips, but no sound came at first. Taehyung's gaze burned into hers, waiting.

"J-Jimin," she finally managed, her voice lacking its usual sharpness, betraying the rapid pounding of her heart. "And Ara. It's just... a day out we planned."

She tried to sound composed, to steady the quiver in her tone, but the way Taehyung's eyes flickered—like he had just pieced together an unsaid truth—made her insides coil.

His silence stretched, charged with something unreadable. Then, slowly, the sharp lines of his expression softened—not in mercy, but in something far more dangerous.

"A little day out, you say?" His voice was velvet, smoothed over with amusement, but beneath it lay something deeper. Hungrier.

"And you decided to call it a 'date'... just to see what I'd do?"

Jungkook's breath hitched. His smirk was small but it held unspoken challenge.

Her fingers twitched by her sides, restless, brushing against the smooth fabric of her dress. "I didn't—" she started, but even she wasn't convinced by her own voice.

"Don't." His voice cut through the space between them like a blade—soft, yet sharp enough to make her freeze. "Don't even try to deny it."

A soft chuckle left his lips, dark, knowing. Jungkook felt it more than heard it, the low sound curling through her like the slow burn of a fire.

Taehyung straightened, his smirk fading into something else. Something deeper. Possessive.

"You wanted to rile me up, Mrs. Kim," he murmured, tilting his head just enough that his breath fanned against her cheek, making her shiver. "And you succeeded. But tell me..."

He took a slow step forward. Jungkook instinctively mirrored him, pressing back until the cool wood of the wall kissed her spine.

Trapped.

Her pulse pounded as he leaned in, never touching, but close enough that she felt the heat of his body seeping into hers, teasing the fragile restraint between them.

"Mr. Kim, it's just a friendly outing," Jungkook managed, her voice barely above a whisper. "Jimin, Ara, and I—"

Taehyung arched a brow. "I know exactly what it is," he murmured. "And I also know why you chose your words so carefully... why you twisted the truth."

His gaze flickered downward, tracing the trembling rise and fall of her chest, the delicate brooch at her neckline shifting slightly with each breath.

"You wanted me jealous. Didn't you?"

Jungkook's lashes fluttered, her fingers clenching the folds of her skirt so tightly that her knuckles turned white. Her body betrayed her, heat creeping up her neck, painting her skin in hues of guilt and something dangerously close to exhilaration.

She looked away—anywhere but at him.

"Jungkook, Look at me."

The quiet command sent a tremor down her spine. And despite the desperate voice in her head telling her not to, she obeyed.

Her wide, dark eyes met his. The second they did, she regretted it.

The sheer intensity in his gaze stripped away every last thread of composure she had left. His pupils, dark pools of something raw and unyielding, drank her in, setting fire to every breath, every unspoken thought between them.

"You've succeeded, my mischievous little wife," he murmured, his voice dropping into something thick and dangerous.

His eyes lowered, trailing over the curve of her crimson dress, the way it framed the bare skin at her collarbones, the pearls on her wrists trembling ever so slightly from the way her fingers refused to stay still.

"Dressed to tempt," he murmured, his breath just barely ghosting her jaw. "Every inch of you, a masterpiece crafted to torment me."

Jungkook's chest tightened, her nails digging into her palms in a feeble attempt to ground herself. But it was useless. Taehyung was everywhere—his scent, his voice, the heat of him wrapping around her without a single touch.

His fingers twitched at his sides, his restraint fraying at the edges, but he didn't move.

Because they couldn't.

Because the damn curse still held them prisoner.

Her own body screamed at the distance, aching for something she couldn't have. Her lips parted, a silent plea—one she didn't dare speak aloud.

Taehyung's jaw ticked, his breath uneven now, matching hers in a dangerous rhythm.

With a slow wave of his hand, the door reappeared, its polished wood gleaming like a beacon of escape.

The faint creak of its hinges echoed in the silent room, offering Jungkook an opportunity—a way out of the fire he had so expertly kindled within her. Her eyes darted toward the door, and for a fleeting moment, she considered stepping through it, escaping his suffocating intensity.

But Jungkook didn't move.

Her fingers curled tighter around her dress, her nails pressing into the silk as if the material could anchor her against the magnetic pull of the man standing before her.

Taehyung's smirk had long faded, replaced by something more potent—something unspoken yet undeniable. His gaze never wavered, pinning her in place, burning into her skin like an unspoken vow.

Jungkook swallowed, the heat in her veins warring with the sharp, aching restraint that held them both hostage.

She could leave.

She should leave.

But the way Taehyung's fingers twitched at his sides, the way his throat bobbed with a silent swallow, told her he was just as wrecked as she was.

His control was slipping. And it was because of her.

The realization sent a fresh wave of something reckless through her.

Jungkook's lips parted, a breathy whisper of his name caught at the back of her throat. But before she could voice it, Taehyung moved.

Not forward. Not back.

But his hand lifted, reaching for her.

The motion was so heartbreakingly hesitant, that her breath stilled. His fingers stopped inches away from her wrist, hovering, trembling with restraint.

Jungkook felt it then—the phantom warmth of his skin so painfully close to hers.

A mere inch. A single inch and she would feel him.

"Jungkook."

Her name was barely a whisper on his lips, but it carried the weight of every unsaid desire, every aching moment of restraint that had stretched between them like an unbreakable thread.

Her chest rose and fell in uneven breaths. Her body betrayed her, leaning forward slightly, a silent plea neither of them should have given voice to.

Taehyung's jaw clenched. His fingers curled inward, tightening into a fist, physically restraining himself from what they both wanted.

Needed.

Jungkook's eyes darted to his lips—just once, just for a second—but he caught it.

His breath hitched. His gaze darkened, his body going impossibly still.

A sharp inhale, a silent war.

And then—

Taehyung's hand dropped.

His fingers unclenched, flexing once before retreating to his side. A slow exhale left his lips, controlled, measured—yet his eyes still burned.

"Go," he murmured, the single word a quiet storm.

Jungkook didn't move.

Taehyung's lips twitched, the corner of his mouth lifting just slightly—except it wasn't amusement that lingered there. It was defeat.

"If you don't," he said, his voice even lower, rougher, "I won't be able to let you."

Jungkook shivered.

It wasn't a warning but a promise.

A silent vow that if she stayed—if she so much as lingered a second longer—Taehyung would forget the curse, forget everything, and give in.

The knowledge sent something molten rushing through her veins.

Still, her body refused to obey.

So Taehyung did it for her.

His gaze softened—just a fraction. Then, with a slow exhale, he stepped back.

Away from her. Away from the line they could not cross.

Jungkook's fingers loosened their grip on her skirt. The door stood open behind her yet the pull of Taehyung's presence held her captive.

Her gaze flickered back to the door, then to him—broad shoulders, piercing eyes and the tie still draped around his hands like a symbol of unspoken control.

"Why do you do this?" Jungkook finally managed to whisper, her voice trembling but steady enough to carry her defiance. She wasn't sure if she was still trying to push him away or draw him in, but the question had slipped out, unbidden.

"Do what?" Taehyung countered smoothly, his tone like molten silk.

Jungkook's hand trembled as she reached for the wall, not for the door but to steady herself against the whirlwind he had unleashed within her. Her lips parted, a shaky breath escaping as she met his gaze, her eyes shimmering with defiance and surrender.

"I..." Jungkook began, her voice barely above a whisper, "I hate you."

The chuckle that escaped Taehyung's lips was dark, rich, and knowing. It sent another shiver through her, curling its way down her spine like the touch of something forbidden.

And in the depths of his dark gaze, Taehyung saw it—her defiance, yes, but also the desire that she was so desperately trying to suppress. He could taste it, feel it swirling in the space between them like a storm ready to break.

"You don't hate me, Mrs Kim," he murmured. "You hate that you need me. And you will."

His lips curled up at the corners, the smirk of a man who knew the battle was already won.

Jungkook's breath caught in her throat, her pulse hammering in her ears. Taehyung's presence was suffocating and intoxicating all at once, and she felt herself teetering on the edge of surrender.

But something deep inside her—defiance—urged her to move.

Before Jungkook could think, her legs carried her toward the door. Her movements were quick, feet brushing against the cool floor as she crossed the threshold.

Her heartbeat drowned out everything else as she bolted down the hall. The pearl strings on her dress tinkling with each hurried step, a soft sound that seemed to echo in the silence of the corridor.

The air outside the room was different—cooler, quieter, free of the magnetic pull he exerted.

Yet even as Jungkook ran, her body buzzed with the aftershocks of his words, his gaze, his proximity. Her fingers gripped the sides of her skirt as she fled.

Taehyung didn't chase after her; he didn't need to. He leaned against the doorframe, a knowing smile playing on his lips as he watched her retreating figure.

His eyes gleamed with something unspoken—a mixture of satisfaction and hunger.

Jungkook didn't stop until she reached the main hallway, her chest heaving as she leaned against the wall for support. She pressed a trembling hand to her face, her skin warm to the touch.

Her thoughts were a chaotic mess, filled with his words and the intensity of his gaze. Why does he always do this to me? she thought, frustrated at the undeniable pull she felt even now, far away from him.

Her reflection in a nearby glass panel caught her attention and Jungkook froze. Her cheeks were flushed a deep crimson, the color blooming high on her cheekbones and down her neck.

The glow on her face wasn't just from embarrassment—it was something deeper, something raw and undeniable. Her lips, parted as she tried to catch her breath, still tingled faintly as though his voice had brushed against them.

Jungkook reached up, fingers brushing over her collarbones where her skin was warm to the touch. The brooch on her chest sparkled faintly in the light, the little adornment mocking her, a reminder of how easily he'd unraveled her without even laying a finger on her.

"Get it together," Jungkook whispered to herself, her voice shaky. She fanned her face lightly with her hand but the heat that pooled in her chest didn't dissipate.

The memory of his low voice, the way he had wrapped her in invisible chains of dominance and desire, was imprinted on her, making it impossible to shake off.

He didn't even touch me, Jungkook thought, frustration and something deeper knotting in her chest.

A light tap on her shoulder made her jolt. Jungkook turned sharply, still flushed and flustered, to find Jimin standing there, an amused look on her face.

"What are you doing here, Jungkook?" Jimin asked, her brow raised in curiosity. Her sharp gaze swept over Jungkook, catching the faint blush on her cheeks and the way her hands fidgeted with the folds of her dress.

"I—uh..." Jungkook stammered, her voice trembling slightly. She glanced down at her hands, trying to compose herself. "Just fixing my dress," she managed, though even she could hear how unconvincing she sounded.

Jimin's lips quirked into a knowing smile, but she didn't press further. Instead, she gestured towards the entrance.

"Come on, we're already running late. Ara's waiting."

Jungkook nodded quickly, eager to shift the focus away from herself. She smoothed her dress unnecessarily and took a step forward, but then froze mid-motion, her eyes widening in realization.

"What's wrong?" Jimin asked, tilting her head.

Jungkook bit her lip, mentally cursing herself—and a certain annoying husband—as she hesitated before answering. "I... didn't bring my purse or my phone."

Jimin blinked at her. "What? Why not?"

"Someone decided to keep me occupied," Jungkook muttered under her breath, her cheeks heating up again.

"What?"

Jimin gave her a puzzled look but decided not to probe. Before Jungkook could respond to Jimin, her breath hitched as she saw Taehyung walking toward them. Her cheeks flared with heat once again, and she instinctively straightened, smoothing the front of her dress even though it was already perfect.

In his hand were her purse and phone, as if he had planned this moment all along. The smirk on his face was the same maddening one she had just escaped from, and it made her cheeks flush anew.

Jimin noticed the shift in Jungkook's demeanor instantly, the subtle change in her posture, and the way her breath seemed to catch in her chest. She followed Jungkook's gaze and saw Taehyung approaching them, his dark eyes locked on his wife with an intensity that made Jimin raise an eyebrow.

"You forgot these," Taehyung said, his voice low and smooth.

He extended her belongings toward her, his tone as casual as if he were commenting on the weather. Yet the gleam in his eyes, dark and knowing, told a different story.

Jungkook's cheeks warmed as she took her things from him.

"Thank you," she murmured, clutching her purse tightly as if it could shield her from his presence.

Jimin tilted her head, her brow arching. "Brother, did you come all this way just for that?" Her tone was teasing, but her curiosity was evident.

Taehyung's gaze flickered to his sister. "It's my responsibility, isn't it?" he replied simply, his words carrying an undertone that only Jungkook could decipher. His eyes shifted back to Jungkook, lingering just a moment too long, though his face betrayed nothing.

"Mrs. Kim," he said, his voice even, yet the way he addressed her made her breath hitch. "Enjoy your date."

The slightest curve of his lips—barely a smile but enough to quicken her pulse—followed his words. She could feel the heat in her cheeks intensifying, her body betraying her.

With a final nod to Jimin, he turned to leave.

Jungkook exhaled a shaky breath, her mind racing as she tried to process the exchange. Jimin's voice cut through her thoughts.

"So... what's that all about?" Jimin asked, her tone laced with curiosity.

Jungkook fumbled to fix the strap of her purse.

"Nothing. He's just... being him," she mumbled, the heat rising to her cheeks again.

Jimin's smile widened, though she said nothing more, allowing Jungkook to stew in her flustered state as they headed toward the door.

As they continued on their way, Jungkook couldn't stop her mind from drifting back to Taehyung's actions, his gaze and his every move.

The day had only just begun, yet Jungkook already felt his presence, no matter how far away he was.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The spacious office of the Kim Conglomerates exuded authority and elegance, much like its owner.

Sunlight poured through the floor-to-ceiling windows, reflecting off the polished mahogany furniture and the sleek black marble flooring. Bookshelves lined the walls, filled with volumes on business, strategy and innovation while a modern glass desk stood as the centerpiece of the room.

Taehyung sat at the head of conference table. His charcoal suit hugged his broad shoulders perfectly and his silver cufflinks caught the light as he adjusted the pen in his hand. His hair was styled neatly, with a few strands falling over his forehead, softening the sharp angles of his jawline.

Across from him, a group of interns sat nervously, their notebooks open and pens poised. They were keenly aware of the man before them—the CEO of Kim Conglomerates, a figure feared in the business world.

Taehyung leaned back slightly in his chair, his eyes scanning the papers spread out before him. His deep and authoritative voice broke the silence.

"Let's go over this again," he said, his gaze lifting to meet the interns'.

"You're presenting a proposal to a potential client. It's not just about the numbers—you need to sell the idea, understand their pain points and provide a solution they didn't even know they needed."

One of the interns, a young man in his early twenties, hesitated before speaking up. "Mr. Kim, do you mean focusing on the emotional appeal as well as the practicality of the proposal?"

Taehyung gave a small nod. "Exactly. Businesses don't invest in ideas; they invest in people who understand their needs. If you can demonstrate that you've thought this through—not just logically, but empathetically—you've already won half the battle."

He stood up, the interns instinctively sitting up straighter as his towering figure loomed over them. Taehyung walked over to the whiteboard, picking up a marker.

"Take this scenario," he said, drawing a quick diagram.

"Your client is a mid-sized tech company looking to expand into new markets. What's your approach? Do you pitch based on the numbers alone? Or do you align your strategy with their vision—show them how your proposal fits seamlessly into their long-term goals?"

The interns exchanged glances, some scribbling notes furiously, while others nodded, absorbing every word.

A young woman near the end of the table raised her hand timidly. "Mr. Kim, wouldn't that require extensive research into their company culture and values?"

Taehyung turned to her, nodding approvingly. "Precisely. That's where most people fail. They assume the client's goals are the same as their own. But understanding their culture, their challenges, and their aspirations—that's where the magic happens."

He capped the marker and returned to his seat, leaning forward this time, his elbows resting on the table. His gaze swept across the interns, a spark of encouragement mixed with expectation.

"You're here to learn, to make mistakes and grow. But remember, when you step out of this office, you carry the Kim name. That means excellence is not just expected—it's required."

His words hung in the air as the interns nodded solemnly.

"Don't overthink it. Focus on understanding people. If you can do that, the rest will follow."

Taehyung settled into his seat, his long fingers began idly toying with the sleek paperweight before him.

The interns began to murmur among themselves, exchanging ideas and opinions sparked by the young intern's suggestion. Taehyung's gaze drifted momentarily to the paperweight in his hand, his fingers idly rolling it across the polished surface.

To anyone watching, he appeared contemplative, perhaps weighing the proposal or formulating his next directive.

But in truth, Taehyung's mind had wandered elsewhere, far from the corporate setting. He wasn't thinking about their strategies, quarterly targets, or even the stock market trends.

No—his thoughts were consumed by something far more personal, far more enchanting.

Mr. Kim.

The title was nothing new—his employees, partners, even rivals used it daily.

Yet, when Jungkook said it, the melody of her voice transformed those two simple words into something extraordinary. The gentle way Jungkook's lips curved around the syllables, her tone soft yet teasing sent a thrill down his spine every time.

His fingers slowed on the paperweight as he recalled how she would tilt her head, her doe eyes shining with mischief or tenderness, and let the words spill from her lips.

Taehyung's lips tugged into a subtle smile, his thumb brushing over the edge of the paperweight. He could still hear her voice as if she were standing right beside him, her melodic "Mr. Kim" echoing in his mind.

Jungkook rarely called him by his name—Taehyung.

It was an anomaly, a rarity so precious that he treasured every instance as though it were a priceless artifact.

When she called him Mr. Kim, there is a teasing respect that made his heart skip a beat.

But when Jungkook used Taehyung—when that single word fell from her lips—it was different. It wasn't just his name; it was something he wanted to wrap around himself like a cloak and never let go.

He could count on one hand the times she'd said it. It was rare, almost forbidden and that made it all the more intoxicating.

It was during one of his rare moments of weakness—a night when a nightmare had disrupted his peaceful slumber. He woke with a start, his breaths ragged, his chest tight.

The room was dark but before he could fully process the haunting dream, he felt her hands on him—soft, gentle.

He hadn't meant to but he had clung to her like a child seeking comfort. Jungkook coaxed him back to reality, her fingers threading through his hair, her soft chest rising and falling against him as she held him close.

And Taehyung had nuzzled into her like a boy needing solace. He could still feel the softness of her curves beneath his touch, the tender muscles he'd nuzzled into, his mind half-wishing he could lose himself in that feeling forever.

He clenched his jaw as the memory played again—her breath in his ear, her scent clinging to him, and the way her chest had risen and fallen beneath his cheek. He could almost feel it now and he couldn't help the heat spreading through his chest.

Taehyung's fingers itched for more of her, more of that softness, that intimacy he couldn't seem to shake. He'd felt ridiculous in the light of day, remembering how he'd burrowed into her soft chest, clinging to her.

It was almost maddening, the way she left him craving her without even knowing it. A hunger that gnawed at him, that made his thoughts darker, sharper. If only she knew how much he yearned to press her against him again, to hold her until she couldn't breathe, until Jungkook was as lost in him as he was in her.

What the hell is wrong with me? he thought, shifting in his seat to try and shake off the tension that was beginning to build again.

But no matter how much he willed himself to concentrate, his mind betrayed him. God, her body felt like silk, like something I could lose myself in forever. Those curves... He couldn't stop himself.

How can something so soft make me feel like I'm drowning in it?

His thoughts spiraled further.

I swear, just the thought of nuzzling into her like that makes my mind go blank. It's pathetic. I should be a better husband, not some... some...

He couldn't even finish the thought, because the truth was, he didn't care how pathetic it was. He just wanted more.

I shouldn't be thinking about her like that. Not now. But damn, her chest was like the perfect pillow. Soft, warm... I could fall asleep in it forever. And just the thought of holding her there, feeling her heartbeat against my chest...

He gritted his teeth, fighting to keep his composure.

Get it together, you idiot. But deep down, he couldn't deny it.

Even now, seated at the head of a table in a room full of interns, he could feel the faint blush creeping up his neck at the memory. His lips quirked up at the corners, a bashful smile that he quickly masked by pretending to adjust his watch.

The interns were engrossed in their discussion, so they didn't notice the change in their CEO.

Taehyung sighed inwardly, his heart swelling with an emotion he could barely name.

For all his power, his confidence and the respect, there was nothing in this world more humbling—or more cherished—than being held and comforted by his wife.

Taehyung.

He rolled the name through his own mind now, imagining how it would sound from her lips if she said it just once more. His name wasn't extraordinary; he'd heard it countless times before.

But from Jungkook—oh, from her—it was heavenly.

"Mr. Kim, what do you think?"

An intern's voice cut through his reverie.

Taehyung blinked, his head tilting slightly as he rejoined the moment. His expression remained composed, though the warmth in his eyes lingered from thoughts of her.

"It's worth exploring further," he replied smoothly, his voice calm and decisive.

But even as he resumed his role as CEO, a part of him couldn't wait to hear her call him Mr. Kim again.

Outside the conference room,

Jungkook paused mid-step in the hallway, her arms holding a small stack of files. She was making her way to another room, but something stopped her in her tracks.

Through the large glass window that separated the hallway from the conference room, she caught sight of him.

Taehyung.

The interns were sitting around the table, their backs turned to her, leaving Taehyung as the sole figure framed in the glass. He sat at the head of the table, his posture perfect, his focus completely on the ongoing conversation.

His profile made her heart flutter despite the distance between them.

Jungkook's steps automatically slowed as she caught sight of Taehyung. She stood just outside the large glass window, watching him with a soft, fond gaze.

As if sensing her gaze, Taehyung's eyes flickered up. His gaze locked with hers through the glass. Jungkook's breath hitched, her cheeks flushed a shade of pink as she realized she'd been caught staring. She stood frozen, unable to look away, caught in the depth of his dark eyes.

His expression didn't falter; instead, one brow arched, a silent question in his gaze. Jungkook tried to look away, to pretend she hadn't been standing there for longer than necessary but his raised brow and the faintest curve of his lips pinned her in place.

Taehyung neither said a word nor did he break the flow of his response to the intern, who was too engrossed in her presentation to notice the silent exchange.

A mischievous thought crept into Jungkook's mind. She glanced over her shoulder, ensuring no one else lingered in the hallway, then turned back to the window, her eyes locked on Taehyung. She set the files down on a nearby ledge, freeing her hands.

Jungkook raised her hand, delicate fingers poised just in front of her lips. Her fingers brushed lightly against the plush curve of her lips. She tilted her head slightly, her big doe eyes sparkling with mischief and affection. Her lips parted faintly, and with the subtlest pout, she kissed her fingertip—soft.

The kiss was everything Jungkook felt in that moment.

The wife poured all the affection, the longing, the unspoken emotions into that single gesture.

Taehyung's fingers stilled on the paperweight as his gaze sharpened, his entire attention was drawn to her. Even the softest movement of her hand caught his focus. The interns around him continued discussing, oblivious to the silent exchange unfolding before them.

With a flick of her wrist, Jungkook sent the imaginary kiss flying toward him. Her eyes held Taehyung's gaze through the glass as she sent the kiss toward him, her hand arcing gracefully through the air. Her fingers trembled slightly, the gesture held more weight than words could ever convey.

The gesture carried a silent message that made her cheeks burn even as she smiled.

Taehyung's breath caught in his chest. His pulse quickened, his sharp intake of breath betraying the effect her gesture had on him. Jungkook's beauty, in that particular moment, was overwhelming.

Her eyes sparkled with mischief, her soft features illuminated by the light of the room. She was a vision that stole his breath away even from across the room.

Taehyung's fingers tensed, his attention narrowing to the arc of her hand. His hand shifted slightly, and smoothly, he captured the kiss mid-air, his fingers closing around the space where it had been.

The delicate movement was executed with the kind of precision only he possessed. His eyes softened, the quiet intensity of the moment deepening with the gesture.

The delicate gesture wasn't lost on Jungkook, even from her vantage point outside the room.

His other hand slid his coat, the fabric shifting with the movement, and then, he placed the fist gently over his heart. His palm pressed flat over his heart, and he silently held onto the kiss she had given him.

A shiver ran down Jungkook's spine, her breath catching as she watched him.

His action sent goosebumps over her skin.

The act was symbolic—he wasn't just accepting her affection; he was cherishing it, storing it close to his heart, as if it were a treasure too precious to be lost.

Jungkook's heart skipped a beat, her pulse quickening as she replayed the moment—his hand over his heart, silently holding onto the kiss she'd sent.

The sight of Taehyung holding the kiss she had sent him was more intimate than anything she had expected. It was as if he had captured a piece of her, a piece of the love she had poured into that simple gesture, and had sealed it away for safekeeping.

Her pulse spiked, and her cheeks flushed a deep, rosy pink. She had been playful yet Taehyung's response was tender, meaningful and somehow profoundly intimate.

Taehyung's gaze remained fixed on her, dark eyes piercing through the distance. His expression was unreadable, betraying none of the emotions that churned inside him. His fingers tightened slightly around the paperweight, stilling its lazy spin.

He raised a single brow at her, the challenge clear in his gaze.

Strong Soldier Jungkook thought with a mischievous grin.

It was time for her final move.

Jungkook tilted her head slightly to the side, letting her lips curve into a soft, teasing smile. But before she could fully turn, she added one last touch—a slow wink.

It was the wink that did it.

The paperweight slipped from Taehyung's grasp, landing on the wooden table with a sharp clunk that echoed through the room.

Every intern's head snapped up, their conversation halting mid-sentence.

"Sir?" one of them ventured, eyes wide with surprise.

Taehyung didn't miss a beat. He straightened in his chair, his expression as calm and controlled as ever. He reached for the paperweight, picking it up as though nothing had happened.

His movements were strangely uncoordinated for someone so used to perfection.

"My apologies," he said smoothly, his voice steady, as he placed the paperweight back on the table. "Continue."

Interns exchanged awkward glances, unsure of what just happened.

They quickly returned to their discussion, hesitant to press further.

But Taehyung... Taehyung simply let out a soft exhale and took a moment to compose himself. He leaned back slightly, his elbow resting on the armrest of his chair, fingers pressed lightly against his temple.

In that moment, the great Kim Taehyung, CEO of the mighty Kim conglomerate, was nothing more than a soldier utterly dismantled by a mere wink from his precious wife.

He couldn't help but wonder how Jungkook did it every time.

Jungkook giggled, covering her mouth to stifle the sound, and stepped away from the window, her heart racing with giddy exhilaration. She grabbed her files and quickened her pace down the hallway, her steps echoing faintly as she disappeared from view.

Inside the meeting room, Taehyung's gaze lingered on the spot where she'd been for a brief second longer. His hand resumed spinning the paperweight, his lips curving slightly—a secret smile reserved for moments like these.

Mrs. Kim, you're going to pay for that later.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

| Word Count : 10K |

Me after writing all the no-touching scenes and not giving pookies the deed they want:

😼😼😼😼