Just A Few Numbers Away

Chapter 76

Just Min Yoongi

Content Warning 🔞:

This chapter contains mature themes, including explicit sexual content, suggestive dialogue, and consensual power play (dominance/submission dynamics).

Reader discretion is strongly advised.

18+ only.

***

​The silence of the master bedroom was a stark contrast to the heavy, sleep-thickened energy of the lounge.

Outside this door, the room was a battlefield of discarded pillows, a sleeping princess and her snoring 'elite guards,' but in here, the air was suddenly, sharply still.

It was cooler, scented with the expensive wood-smoke cologne Yoongi had worn for the occasion and the lingering, sweet floral notes of the lotuses on Aen's skin.

The moment the lock engaged, Yoongi didn't waste time with words.

He didn't set her down; he held her against the door for a heartbeat longer, his forehead resting against hers, his breath coming in ragged, uneven hitches that betrayed just how much the night had cost him emotionally.

Aen's legs remained wrapped around his waist, her arms locking around his neck.

They'd done this dozens of times since New Year, but tonight, the friction felt different.

It felt sanctioned.

​"Finally," he groaned into the hollow of her throat, his teeth grazing her skin in a way that made her toes curl.

He'd been playing the patient fiancé, and as the strategic producer all day, but in the dark of the master suite, he was just a man wanting to finally claim his home.

​"You've been staring at me like that since the grove, Jagi," Aen whispered, her fingers clutching the fabric of his shirt at his shoulders.

She peppered light, desperate kisses along his neck.

"I thought you were going to snap in front of the members."

​"I almost did," Yoongi admitted, his voice dropping into that rough, low register he only used in this bed.

"Watching you talk to your parents... seeing that amethyst on your hand... all I could think about was getting you back here and taking every bit of this off."

His hands, already heavy on her waist, tightened as his thumbs hooked into the fabric of her dress, tugging her even closer until there wasn't a breath of space left between them.

The movement was possessive, a silent demand that made Aen's breath hitch.

He didn't wait for a response; he simply leaned in, his nose grazing the shell of her ear as his palms slid upward, mapping the curve of her ribs with a slow, agonizing heat.

​He lingered there for a heartbeat, feeling the frantic skip of her pulse against his palms, before his hands began a slow, possessive descent.

He dragged his hands down the length of her torso, his thumbs grazing her waist until his fingers hooked firmly under the backs of her thighs, hoisting her higher against him.

With her legs already locked tightly around his waist, he stepped away from the door, his strength effortless as he navigated the short distance.

He carried her to the edge of the bed, sitting down but keeping her draped across his lap so he could look at her.