Whispers of Submission jjk

Chapter 12

Pain.

That was the first thing I felt when I woke up. A dull, aching soreness spread through my body, each movement sending sharp reminders of the night before. My legs throbbed, my muscles protested, and a suffocating weight settled on my chest.

I pushed myself upright, biting back a wince. The dim morning light filtered through the curtains, painting the room in soft, muted hues, but there was nothing soft about the reality I had to face.

Jungkook's words clung to my skin, staining me in ways I couldn't wash off.

"From now on, you belong to me. All mine."

I squeezed my eyes shut, willing away the memory, but it didn't matter. His voice was embedded in my mind, his touch burned into my skin like an unshakable curse. I had thought giving in would be my way out. That he'd take what he wanted and leave. That I'd finally be free.

But I was a fool.

Jungkook never played by the rules.

With a deep breath, I forced myself out of bed, every step a reminder of what had transpired. The mirror reflected someone I barely recognized—a girl with haunted eyes, swollen lips, and betrayal carved into her very essence.

I needed to pull myself together.

College was unavoidable. And so was him.

Walking through the halls was a test of endurance. My body ached, my mind spun, and yet, I refused to let it show. I kept my head high, my shoulders squared. I pretended. It was all I could do.

But then I saw him.

Jungkook.

Leaning against the lockers, surrounded by his usual entourage, his presence magnetic, commanding. But that wasn't what stopped me in my tracks.

It was her.

Aria. Wrapped around him like she belonged there.

She laughed at something he said, her perfectly manicured fingers brushing over his chest. Jungkook smirked, his usual lazy arrogance dripping from every movement, every glance.

And he didn't even look at me.

The ache in my chest was immediate, sharp. It was absurd. I had no reason to feel anything. No right. And yet, the sight of him with someone else made something ugly twist inside me.

I turned away, forcing myself to walk past them as if I didn't care, as if his touch wasn't still imprinted on my skin. As if I hadn't shattered beneath him just hours ago.

But then, as if drawn by some invisible thread, I felt it.

His gaze.

I didn't turn back. I refused to. But I felt it, scorching into me, his presence wrapping around my throat like a silent, invisible chain.

Later, when the library offered a temporary refuge, I buried myself in books, desperate for an escape. But the moment was short-lived.

The air shifted.

A presence loomed.

Then—

"Jungkook!" My voice came out sharper than I intended, cutting through the silence.

He didn't flinch. Instead, he smirked, sliding into the seat across from me with infuriating ease.

"What are you doing here?" My fingers clenched the book in front of me. "You promised."

"I lied."

His voice was casual, lazy, but his eyes—those dark, all-consuming eyes—told a different story.

"You're disgusting," I hissed.

Jungkook leaned closer, elbows resting on the table, his gaze never wavering. "Watch your mouth, princess. You don't want to test me."

My pulse hammered. I hated how easily he unraveled me, how his mere presence made my body react against my will.

Then, before I could pull away, he reached out, his fingers grazing my wrist. The contact sent a jolt through me. I tried to yank my hand back, but his grip tightened, firm but not painful.

"You're still sore, aren't you?" His smirk deepened, a wicked gleam in his eyes.

Heat burned up my neck. I wanted to deny it, to wipe that smug expression off his face, but my body betrayed me.

He chuckled, leaning in until his breath ghosted over my lips. "You still smell like me."

Humiliation flared hot in my chest.

I shoved my chair back, standing abruptly. "Leave me alone, Jungkook."

He didn't move. If anything, his smirk widened. "You really think you can walk away from me?"

And before I could react, he was on his feet, his hand wrapping around my wrist as he pulled me close.

Too close.

"Let me go," I spat, struggling against his hold.

Instead of listening, he lifted me effortlessly, his arms securing around my waist. A startled gasp left my lips as he carried me out of the library, completely unfazed by my protests.

"Jungkook—put me down!" I hissed, my fists pounding against his chest.

"Relax, sweetheart," he mused, his tone laced with amusement. "Can't have you collapsing in the hallway. Wouldn't want people knowing how weak I made you."

Fury mixed with mortification. "You're insufferable!"

He chuckled, unbothered, as he carried me into an empty storage room, shutting the door behind him.

The silence between us crackled with something electric.

I hated how my pulse quickened. I hated how my body reacted to him despite every ounce of logic screaming at me to resist.

Jungkook tilted his head, studying me like I was something fragile, breakable. But I wasn't.

"I'm not afraid of you," I whispered, though my voice lacked conviction.

He smirked, his fingers tracing the line of my jaw. "You should be."

Then he kissed me.

It was brutal, searing—an unrelenting claim. His lips moved against mine with raw intensity, his hands gripping my waist, pulling me impossibly closer. My mind screamed at me to push him away, but my traitorous body yielded, melting into his touch.

His tongue traced my bottom lip before he bit down, drawing a soft gasp from me.

"You drive me fucking insane," he murmured against my lips, his hands tightening their hold.

I shoved at his chest, breathless, shaken. "You don't own me."

His smirk returned, slow and lethal. "Oh, sweetheart. I already do."

A shiver ran down my spine as I realized the terrifying truth.

Jungkook wasn't just claiming me.

He was consuming me.