{BOOK THREE}...When unworldly literature student Jeon Jungkook first encountered the driven and dazzling young entrepreneur Kim Taehyung it sparked a sensual affair that changed both of their lives irrevocably. Shocked, intrigued, and, ultimately, r...
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Jungkook P.O.V.
"What are you thinking?" Taehyung murmurs, stopping my thoughts in their tracks as he pulls his finger out of my mouth.
"How mercurial you are."
He stills beside me. "Beyond Layers, baby," he says eventually and plants a tender kiss at the corner of my mouth.
"My Beyond Layers," I whisper. Grabbing his T-shirt, I pull him back to me.
"Oh no you don't, Mister Kim. No touching . . . not yet." He takes my hand, pries it off his T-shirt, and kisses each finger in turn.
"Sit up," he commands.
I pout.
"I will spank you if you pout. Now open wide."
Oh shit. I open my mouth, and he pops in a forkful of spicy hot lamb covered in a cool, minty, yogurt sauce.
Mmm. I chew.
"You like?"
"Yes."
He makes an appreciative noise, and I know he's eating and enjoying, too.
"More?"
I nod. He gives me another forkful, and I chew it enthusiastically. He puts the fork down and he tears . . . bread, I think.
"Open," he orders.
This time it's pita bread and hummus. I realize Mrs. Jones—or maybe even Taehyung—has been shopping at the delicatessen I discovered about five weeks ago only two blocks from Escala. I chew gratefully.
Taehyung in a playful mood increases my appetite.
"More?" he asks.
I nod. "More of everything. Please. I'm starving."
I hear his delighted grin. Slowly and patiently he feeds me, occasionally kissing a morsel of food from the corner of my mouth or wiping it off with his fingers.
Intermittently, he offers me a sip of wine in his unique way.
"Open wide, then bite," he murmurs. I follow his command. Hmm—one of my favorites, stuffed vine leaves. Even cold they are delicious, though I prefer them heated up, but I don't want to risk Taehyung burning himself again. He feeds it to me slowly, and when I've finished I lick his fingers clean.
"More?" he asks, his voice low and husky.
I shake my head. I'm full.
"Good," he whispers against my ear, "because it's time for my favorite course. You." He scoops me up in his arms, surprising me so much I squeal.
"Can I take the blindfold off?"
"No."
I almost pout, then remember his threat and think better of it.
