HIS BABY || JEON JUNGKOOK ||

Morning

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As the morning light leaked through the edges of the curtains, bathing the entire room in a warm hue, she became aware of the weight of her exhaustion. Everything hurt—places she didn't know existed—and her mind was coated hazily, full of cotton wool. In all this, though, there was a feeling of peace and contentment—feelings she had not known for so long.

She sighed before sitting up, wincing as her muscles protested the movement. In her head, it began to pound with the beginnings of a headache, and between her legs, well. there was some soreness there. She groaned and rubbed her eyes wearily. The last night had passed in a blurry rage of passion and anger, an exercise in surrendering himself to primal urges that had been churning below the surface far too long.

She looked at Jungkook again, speaking on the phone with a serious and focused expression. To think that, but hours ago, he'd been inside her, thrusting hard and deep, claiming her in a way that no one else ever had. It was even harder to believe that she'd let him.

But she watched him now, knowing that it was more than just animal lust.

Now she sat and watched him and filled up with an odd sense of peace. It was as though, in this twisted, complicated way, through it all, they had found a connection that went further than she could ever have imagined. It was raw and primal, yes, but there was some tenderness to it, a level of vulnerability that she had not expected to just be able to pick up.

Always wondered what would happen when, or if ever they spoke about their relationship. Would that ruin the intensity of what they had, or would it just make it stronger? She didn't know, and at least for now, she was content with these thoughts.

She reached out a tentative hand, trailing her fingers down his arm until they came to rest on his shoulder. He glanced up at her, a small frown marring his face. His eyes dropped to her hand, and for a second, she thought he might pull her closer, but instead, he turned back to his call, his attention on other things.

She gazed at him, feeling his skin against her fingertips, wondering about their future. Was it just like any other time—passion great but flared high and died out just as quickly? She couldn't deny the pull she had for him, how her body ached for him, wanted him not just when they were together but even more when they were apart.

As the sun crept higher in the sky, casting a soft, golden light across the room, realization settled over her that she didn't want to think about it. Not yet. She would savor being close to him at that moment, knowing that no matter how bad things got in this wretched, chaotic world, there was somebody who had her back in a way nobody ever had before.

She watched him as he spoke on the phone, his voice low and intense. It tended to be the kind of sight she would watch for hours, lost in the beauty of his movement, and strength seemed to radiate from him with every action he took.

A question shone in his eyes, and she read it clearly even though he said nothing. She leaned forward, her lips almost touching his. From them emanated their mingled breath in a sigh of desire. His hand came up to cup her cheek, his thumb stroking her jawline as he deepened the kiss, his tongue tracing the outline of her lips before slipping inside her mouth.

She moaned, arching her back to meet the touch, hands tangled in his hair as she pulled him closer. He let a pained groan loose, his hips shifting against hers as the cover of his boxer briefs did little to conceal the erection pressed against her. She could feel the heat of him, the hardness of him, and she wanted more.

He withdrew from the kiss, and his lips traced from her jaw down to her neck, where he sucked gently on her skin. His hand moved lower, tracing circles around her navel, before dipping lower still to where they both ached for him to touch. She gasped as his fingers hit their target; his touch sent chills of desire through her body.

She then arched her back, nails jagging into his shoulders, a moan of pleasure escaping her. He upped the pressure there, his thumb circling her clit in a rhythm almost cruel for its intensity. She felt herself starting to spiral out of control, her breath coming faster and faster as the pleasure built inside her.

And then, with a cry that was partly pain and partly pleasure, she came; her body shuddering as the tension broke, a wave of heat washing over her. Jungkook kept up his gentle stroking, the movement of his fingers maintaining a soothing pattern only because she finally stopped, having calmed down.

Lay still, panting heavily, with her eyes closed as she struggled to catch her breath. She felt really connected to him at that very moment; it was as though they were two halves of the same soul. And although only the rhythmical coming and going of his breaths could be heard, she knew that he felt it too.

Reaching down, her fingers curled around his waistband of boxer briefs and tugged. "Take these off," she murmured, her voice still rough from their exertions. "I want to feel you inside me again."

His gaze was steady and hard, but he complied with her request. He drew his boxer down slowly and then slipped the fabric down his thighs, displaying his hard erection. He reached out and cupped her cheek, brushed her hair behind her ear, and then he leaned in and kissed her. His tongue danced with hers, teasing and enticing, as they once again became one.

She let her fingers move over the defined muscles of his abdomen, feeling muscle play beyond her touch. He groaned into the kiss, his hips pushing forward, pressing the tip of his erection against her entrance. She moaned, arching her back in the offer, and he took her up on the offer, guiding himself inside her in one smooth motion.

Their breaths mingled, gazing into each other's eyes, moving their bodies in perfect synchrony. Jungkook started a slow thrusting, moving his hips against hers in a rhythmic push, sending waves of pleasure through her. She wrapped her legs around his waist and dug her nails into his shoulders as she felt herself grow closer to the edge.

His strokes quickened and became more urgent as his breathing became more rapid. She felt him building toward his release, and she knew that she wasn't far behind. When she finally came, she felt a cry that was part desperation, part ecstasy, as her body shuddered beneath his—a wave after wave of pleasure crested over her body.

He continued with her over the edge, his thrusts becoming faster and harder, jerking them out of him as he released himself into her. They both lay there after, panting heavily, with their hearts thumping, trying to catch their breath.