SECOND LEAD SYNDROME 2 | JJK

8 | paint me instead

"Seriously that god daughter of yours is something else alright," Taehyung finishes washing up the dishes and tosses the towel aside, followed by the apron he had on all night. I told him all the stories of what went down tonight and all he could do was laugh— he too, adored her. Sometimes I even caught him role playing with Yeji and pretending to be V per her request.

I finished up my third sketch of the night. I learned to draw mostly from Taehyung since I went to business school and not fashion— everything fashion I learned from Chaeyoung. They both helped mold me into the successful person I am today.

Jung Yura, the youngest new money millionaire in SKorea with the fastest growing start up company in 2020.

Taehyung glances from behind me, both hands on my shoulders and nods like a proud father. "Wanna help me with a few paintings?" He asks.

He was auctioning off paintings for his charity gala the weekend after his grand opening. Taehyung was scouting amateur artists with potential to give them an opportunity to showcase their skills in addition to giving back to the community.

While I literally sucked at painting, I couldn't deny the chance to help with charity work.

When we went shopping for places in Seoul, it was a given that there needed to be a room just for his art. A place with a lot of natural lighting with massive compartments for storage, just to keep everything neat and tidy. Because when he works, he really works. He can be in this room for hours straight and forget his own entire existence— because the entirety of him was instilled in the paintbrush and drawn on the canvas before him.

Taehyung set out my own easel and canvas before finishing off his own work. "All art has meaning," was the last thing he said before we both went to work.

I covered my canvas in pastels in the beginning, everything was calm and beautiful. Then out of nowheres, my mind told me to splatter black paint everywhere's and then when it got too out of hand, I went in with some white. And now my entire canvas is black and white and I'd just spent the entire hour doing nothing.

"I'm a mess," I sigh and place my brushes aside. "Let's do something else."

Distracting Taehyung while he was working was near impossible. But I knew the right techniques.

I unbuttoned my blazer then undid my top, followed by my pants. Taehyung glanced once but returned to his canvas. I can sense the amount of self control it took for him not to look again when I took off my bra and let my babies out for a breather. Chills ran across my skin the moment my nips felt the breeze and demanded warmth.

I waltzed up to him and held his hand that never parted from the paint brush— so I took it and smeared it across my chest. A streak of bold red swiped against my bulging cleavage. His lips parted and his Adam's apple shifted as he swallowed deeply.

"Paint me instead."

No male was able to resist such charms and Taehyung was certainly one of them. The warmth of his lips found my skin, kissing the most sensitive part of my neck and leaving goosebumps in his trail. Like a paintbrush on canvas, his tongue paints their way around my mounds before gently nipping at my bud.

"Today, Yeji asked me when I was going to give her a cousin," I say as he buries himself in my neck; licking, biting, and sucking the life out of me.

"What'd you say?" He questions, pulling away to look me in the eyes.

It took me forever to get to the point where I felt this way. The readiness for commitment. But I knew that what I was feeling now, no matter how damaged my past has made me, was valid no matter what. And I wanted this— him.

I cupped his beautiful face and looked into his eyes and said, "I told her I'd try."

He lets out a smile, wider than my legs at the moment and pulls me in for a hug, completely excited and thrilled with the announcement. I'd shut him out for too long and spoke of nothing about our future together as a couple. Our relationship felt as if it were just stuck in the same place, and as good as it was, I could tell that he wanted more.

So for today and everyday on forward, he'd forget the condom. And as much as it felt as if I were breaking an untold promise, I owed it to my new lover to fully commit.

It wasn't like Jungkook would be keeping his words either— wife and all.

Taehyung kisses me slow with the same fiery passion that courses through his every vein, the same passion that was made of his being. And so he wouldn't bust his ass being on the stool, Taehyung gently lays me down on the paint splattered fabric used to protect the marble. He wastes no time unbuckling himself and finally allowing the rawness of us to collide.

It had been years since I had sex without a condom that I've forgotten how it felt. It was better in a way that I felt more connected to him, more in touch. It might've been more on the mental side but it was there— the drastic difference.

I took in every feeling I felt that night. From the painful pleasures from the fulfillment of him to the slickness of his sweaty body. I reveled in his every touch, each one making me more sensitive than the last.

This man has been my undoing.

Out of pure ecstasy, I clutched onto whatever I could. The sheets beneath us were oozing with cum and stained with sweat, and I'd been covered in more paint than all the canvases in the room. At one point I accidentally rolled over my own painting— safe to say it's no longer in the run.

The night ended with him filling me up like a twinkie in every hole possible.