The rain hammered against the floor-to-ceiling windows, streaking down the glass in a silver haze. The city skyline blurred behind the storm, but inside the penthouse, the real storm was brewing.
Taehyung sat in his armchair, one hand gripping a crystal tumbler of whiskey, the other resting loosely against the barrel of his gun. His knuckles were stark white, tension coiling through his muscles.
His eyes—obsidian pools of fury—remained fixed on the woman in front of him.
Her hands were bound in his silk tie, the dark fabric looped around her wrists, keeping them snug behind her back. She sat on the edge of the leather couch, legs crossed, her body stiff with defiance.
Her eyes—a blend of fear and defiance—glared at him.
"You're making a mistake," she said quietly, her voice hoarse.
Taehyung's lips curled into a sinister smirk. The sound that rumbled from his chest was low, dark, and humorless.
"No, princess," he murmured, swirling the whiskey in his glass. "The only mistake was letting you think you could escape me."
Her throat bobbed as she swallowed hard, her pulse fluttering against her neck like a fragile bird. He tracked the movement with predatory precision.
"You kidnapped me," she hissed, fire flashing in her eyes. "You had no right."
He set the tumbler down with a deliberate clink. The room fell into a suffocating silence.
And then, he stood.
Slowly. Purposefully.
He stalked toward her with the kind of feral grace that made her breath catch. Each step was slow, measured, deliberate—like he was savoring the moment.
"I had every right," he said softly, the lethal calm in his voice making her shiver. He crouched before her, leveling their gazes. His hand slid up her thigh, leisurely tracing circles over her skin, making her legs tremble slightly.
"You belong to me," he growled, his thumb brushing along the sensitive inside of her knee. "And you ran."
She squirmed slightly beneath his touch, but he gripped her chin, forcing her gaze back to him.
"Do you know what it felt like?" His voice was quiet but deadly. "To search for you? To wonder if you were alive or dead? To have nothing but the scent of your perfume on my sheets and the taste of your betrayal in my mouth?"
Her breath hitched. She could feel the heat of his palm on her skin, the warmth of his breath against her lips.
"Taehyung…" she whispered, her voice trembling.
He stilled.
Her voice was his ruin. It always had been.
But instead of softening, his grip tightened. His jaw clenched, the muscles working beneath his flawless skin.
"No," he snarled, cutting her off. "You don't get to say my name like that." His voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. "Not after what you did."
She flinched slightly, her eyes flickering with guilt.
But then, the fire returned.
"You act like I wanted to leave," she snapped, her voice sharp despite the trembling in her chest. "You left me no choice, Taehyung." Her eyes narrowed. "You suffocated me."
His eyes darkened to something feral.
"Suffocated you?" he echoed, a cruel smile tugging at his lips. He tilted her chin higher. "No, princess." His voice was velvet-soft, but the steel beneath it cut through her. "I saved you."
She shook her head, her breaths coming in shallow pants. "You chained me," she hissed.
His hand slid to the back of her neck, fisting in her hair. He yanked her head back gently, exposing her throat. His lips ghosted over her racing pulse.
"Then why do you still shiver when I touch you?" he taunted softly, his breath hot against her skin. "Why does your body still melt into mine like it belongs here?"
Her eyes squeezed shut.
"Tell me," he murmured, his tongue darting out to trace a slow, possessive path along her throat, "if I chained you… why are you still mine?"
She gasped softly, her thighs clenching involuntarily as his lips skimmed her jawline.
"Don't," she pleaded, her voice cracking.
But her body betrayed her.
The heat pooling low in her stomach, the fluttering in her chest, the way her traitorous skin burned beneath his touch—it all gave her away.
Taehyung pulled back slightly, his breath ragged against her lips. His eyes were dark, wild with possession.
"Too late," he rasped.
And then he kissed her.
The moment their lips met, it was destruction.
It wasn't gentle. It was brutal and claiming, searing with rage and desperation. His hands moved to her bound wrists, gripping them as he devoured her lips.
Her body arched toward him, responding to him as if she hadn't spent months trying to forget the taste of his mouth, the way he felt inside her veins.
"Still so fucking sweet," he muttered against her lips, his voice hoarse. "I should punish you for making me wait this long."
Her breath came out in shallow pants as he traced his lips along her jaw, his teeth grazing the delicate skin beneath her ear.
"Taehyung…" she whimpered, her voice shaky.
But he was lost.
Completely.
His hands moved to her thighs, gripping them tightly before lifting her onto his lap. Her knees pressed into the leather, straddling him as he ground her hips against his.
Her body trembled as his hands slid up her sides, gripping her waist with a possessive desperation.
"You drove me mad," he groaned against her neck. "Do you even understand what you did to me?" His teeth grazed her skin. "I would've burned down the whole goddamn world to find you."
Her fingers curled into his shirt, nails biting into the fabric, clutching him like he was the only thing keeping her from falling apart.
"Tell me you're mine," he demanded, his lips pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along her collarbone. "Tell me."
Her chest heaved, the sensation of his mouth leaving a trail of heat in its wake.
She didn't answer.
So, he tightened his grip, his hands anchoring her hips against his.
"Say it." His voice was raw with possession.
She trembled in his grasp, lips parted, eyes wide with defiance.
But Taehyung didn't tolerate defiance.
He grabbed a fistful of her hair, pulling her head back just enough to make her gasp.
"I said…" his voice was low, lethal, and thick with dominance, "say it."
Her breath was uneven, her chest heaving. The fire in his eyes stripped her bare and reduced her to nothing but the wild beating of her heart.
And in that moment, she knew she had no fight left.
Her eyes met his—a clash of defiance and surrender.
"I'm yours," she whispered.
Taehyung stilled.
For a heartbeat, he simply stared at her, his chest rising and falling with labored breaths. The words slammed into him, tearing through his body with violent satisfaction.
His hands loosened slightly, but his eyes remained wild, feral.
"Again," he rasped.
Her lips parted slightly, her voice a trembling whisper.
"I'm yours, Taehyung."
A slow, wicked smile curled over his lips.
And then he kissed her again.
This time, it was darker—slower, deeper—like he was savoring her surrender. His hands roamed her body, leaving trails of fire in their wake, and she melted into him, limbs tangled with his as if she had never left.
Somewhere in the distance, the storm raged on, the rain battering against the windows in an angry symphony.
But inside the penthouse, the only storm was him.
And she was lost in it.
Completely.
Irrevocably.
And she knew—even as her heart pounded and her lips bruised beneath his kisses—that there was no turning back.
Because Taehyung wasn't simply her obsession.
He was her ruin.
And she would burn in his fire forever.