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Part : 5
Tittle : The control slipped a little too harshly...
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Quote : The moon is my sun, the night is my day, I bite you in love, coz you are prey...
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He waited just outside the room until he heard the soft rustle of fabric. When the door finally opened and she stepped out, he was leaning against the wall, his usual relaxed posture. But the sight of her made him straighten instantly.
The black off-shoulder top, with its long sleeves extending halfway down her fingers, and the way it met the waistband of her trousers… it was a simple outfit, yet it clung to her curves in a way that was both elegant and undeniably alluring. He hadn't anticipated this effect. His hand instinctively slipped into his pocket, his gaze tracing the lines of her figure, a possessive heat rising within him.
She noticed his intense stare and her brow furrowed slightly. Looking down at herself, she asked hesitantly, "Is it not okay? Should I change it?"
His hand shot out, gently but firmly grasping hers. He pulled her towards him, until she was standing close enough to feel the steady beat of his heart. Leaning down, his breath warm against her ear, he whispered, his voice a low, husky murmur that sent shivers down her spine, "It's perfect."
His hand settled possessively on the curve of her waist, his thumb finding the edge of her top. Slowly, almost experimentally, he rubbed the soft fabric, then with a subtle shift, he slid his long fingers underneath, his bare skin now pressed against hers.
A visible shiver traced its way down her spine. Her eyes widened, a mixture of surprise and a strange, unfamiliar sensation swirling within them. Her scent, a delicate floral fragrance, filled his nostrils, intoxicating him. An irresistible urge washed over him, and he leaned down, pressing his nose into the crook of her neck, inhaling deeply.
She felt the warmth of his breath ghosting over the delicate skin of her neck, a sensation both unsettling and strangely… magnetic. Her mind screamed for her to pull away, to create distance from this intense closeness. Yet, her body seemed to have a will of its own, refusing to obey the frantic signals from her brain.
His nearness, the subtle pressure of his hand on her waist, the intoxicating scent of him – it all conspired to hold her captive in this moment. She couldn't seem to gather her thoughts, her senses overwhelmed by the feel of his lips so close, the anticipation of his touch. A tremor ran through her, a shudder that was a confusing mix of fear and something else entirely.
The instant his lips made contact with the sensitive curve of her neck, a sharp gasp escaped her. His hands, which had been resting on her waist, now tightened, pulling her flush against his chest. His lips moved against her skin with a raw possessiveness, a stark contrast to the earlier tenderness. He nipped at her flesh, and she felt a sharp, unfamiliar sensation – the subtle graze of what felt like the tips of his teeth. A primal instinct took over him, his control finally beginning to fray.
Then, the gentle nips turned into something sharper. His fangs, no longer concealed, subtly pierced her skin. Even though he tried to be gentle, a jolt of pain shot through her, causing her to wince. She instinctively tried to push him away, her hands pressing against his chest. But his grip was like iron, his strength far surpassing hers. His rough hands, now resting on the bare skin beneath her top, began to move slowly, tracing the delicate curve of her waist, an unsettling exploration that made her skin crawl.
His teeth continued their brutal assault on her neck, tracing a painful path from beneath her ear down to her collarbone. Each bite was a searing reminder of his raw power. He attacked her skin again and again, a relentless, hungry claiming. The sharp points of his fangs tore at her delicate flesh, leaving behind a gruesome tapestry of angry red and deepening purple marks that marred the pale expanse of her neck and exposed shoulder.
Tears welled in her eyes, blurring her vision with the intensity of the pain. Yet, lost in the throes of his arousal, he seemed oblivious to her distress. He sucked fiercely on a patch of skin, the sensation leaving her weak and trembling. Finally, he pulled back slightly, his breath still coming in ragged gasps, his eyes blazing with a deep, primal red as he surveyed the bloody artwork he had etched onto her skin.
The sight of the tears welling in her eyes, the way her small body trembled in his arms, finally pierced through the haze of his desire. A pang of something akin to guilt, unfamiliar yet sharp, resonated within him. He noticed the pallor of her skin, the weakness that had begun to overtake her.
Instinctively, he scooped her up into his arms once more, cradling her gently against his chest. God, how he loved holding her like this, a possessive warmth spreading through him.
A dark urge still simmered beneath the surface – the desire to throw her onto the bed, to brand every inch of her porcelain skin with his mark, to leave her a beautiful, breathless ruin amidst the sheets. But the fear of truly scaring her, of shattering the fragile trust that was beginning to bloom, held him back.
He carried her into a lavishly decorated bedroom, the heavy velvet curtains drawn against the outside world. He laid her carefully on the soft comforter of the massive bed, positioning her near a silver tray laden with a selection of delicate-looking food. "Eat something," he murmured, his voice surprisingly gentle. Before leaving, he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, a stark contrast to the violence of moments before.
He strode into the kitchen, the cool marble a welcome sensation beneath his feet. He grabbed a crystal glass and filled it with ice-cold water, gulping it down in large swallows, desperate to quell the burning in his veins.
Suddenly, a gentle tap-tap landed on his shoulder. He whirled around, his senses on high alert, catching the faint shimmer of white glitter dissipating in the air behind him. Namjoon.
Rage flared. Jungkook's hand shot out, fisting the front of Namjoon's impeccably tailored jacket, pulling him close. "What the hell is happening to me?" he growled, his voice a low snarl. "I can't control myself around her! My eyes, my fangs… it's like something primal takes over!"
Strong arms wrapped around Jungkook from behind, pulling him back. "Easy, Jungkook," Taehyung's smooth but deep voice soothed, his grip firm but restraining.
Namjoon calmly straightened his collar, his gaze steady. "She's your mate, Jungkook. What you're feeling… it's natural. The pull, the possessiveness… it's the bond."
Jungkook's grip on Namjoon's collar tightened, his brow furrowed in frustration. "Then why don't I feel any different?" he demanded, his voice laced with a desperate edge. "You said marriage to my mate would make me stronger! I married her, so why am I still… the same?"
Namjoon carefully pried Jungkook's fingers from his jacket, his expression serious. "The marriage itself is the first step, Jungkook. The bond is now established. But," he paused, his gaze direct, "there needs to be a physical connection. A true merging. You need to… make love with her."
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[Note - The time has come guys, just wait a little more and then uhum uhum...]
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