𝐁𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐄'𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐈𝐅𝐄 || 𝐉𝐉𝐊

chapter thirty-three

T/w: contains mature content. Do not read if uncomfortable.

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[Y/n's pov]:

"Mine," he whispered, his warm breath tickling my ear, sending shivers down my spine. A soft gasp escaped my lips as he nibbled on my earlobe, making my cheeks flush with heat.

"J-Jungkook-" I stuttered, my voice barely audible.

"Mhm?" he murmured, his lips still grazing my ear.

"T-The food..." I managed to say, trying to sound nonchalant despite the turmoil inside me.

At the mention of food, his grip on my hands slowly started to loosen, his fingers tracing a gentle path down my arms before releasing me altogether. He stepped back, creating a little distance between us that somehow left me feeling unexpectedly disappointed.

I couldn't help but wonder what I had been expecting but certainly not this, not for him to let go so easily. What's happening to me? Since when I've started being so desperate for his touch?

Though I tried not to look disappointed, my expressions betrayed me.

My gaze dropped, and my expression fell as I picked up the spatula from the counter, trying to focus on the task at hand. While he silently watched me from behind, his presence was still palpable, enough to make my heart race with anticipation.

Anyways...let's just concentrate on cooking...I don't have to get distracted because of him. So what if he is standing...behind me? Standing...right behind...close...so what..? Yeah, I can do it. Concentrate!

As I stood there, trying to focus on cooking, after a while, his hands again slowly reached out from behind, his fingers slowly wrapping around mine, holding the spatula. And suddenly, the distance between us perished, leaving no room for even a whisper of air to pass through us.

Is he perhaps doing this intentionally...?! I couldn't help but wonder.

My eyes widened, but I remained still, pretending as if I was least bothered by any of this but in reality my heart was racing as if it might explode at any moment if this goes on like this any longer.

But I was also aware of the fact that I couldn't just bear to be this close to him yet pretend to be so calm-as if he was not affecting me at all-as if his touch was not making me feel desperate...as if...I wasn't craving for more contact.

The touch sent shivers down my spine as his fingers intertwined with mine, our hands now started moving in tandem, stirring the pot with a gentle and rhythmic motion. The heat from his body enveloped me, making my skin prickle with awareness.

I could feel his chest against my back, his breath whispering against my ear, "Focus," the word enough to send tremors through my entire being.

The spatula seemed to move on its own accord, our hands gliding through the sauce with a sensual, almost hypnotic motion. The kitchen around me slowly started to melt away, leaving me lost in his presence, his touch-his tinglish breathing sensations against my ear.

F-Focus...I can't get distracted by just this- I c-can't.

And just then, his fingers tightened around mine, his thumb now started tracing circles on my palm, sending sparks through my veins. And I could already feel myself leaning back into him, my body craving for more contact...more touch.

I knew I should be pulling away, but my body refused to listen, trapped in the thrall of his touch, his presence.

As if...my body was working on its own accord...