𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝟣𝟢 🕊

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Jungkook P

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Jungkook P.O.V.

"I was briefly in Vegas with Mom and Husband Number Three. I was in tenth grade. His name was Bradley, and he was my lab partner in physics."

"How old were you?"

"Fifteen."

"And what's he doing now?"

"I don't know."

"What base did he get to?"

"Taehyung!" I scold—and suddenly he grabs my knees, then my ankles, and tips me up so I fall back on to the couch. He slides smoothly on top of me, trapping me beneath him, one leg between mine. It's so sudden that I cry out in surprise. He grabs my hands and raises them above my head.

"So, this Bradley—did he get to first base?" he murmurs, running his nose down the length of mine. He plants soft kisses at the corner of my mouth.

"Yes," I murmur against his lips. He releases one of his hands so that he can clasp my chin and hold me still while his tongue invades my mouth, and I surrender to his ardent kissing.

"Like this?" Taehyung breathes when he comes up for air.

"No . . . nothing like that," I manage as all the blood in my body heads south.

Releasing my chin, he runs his hand down over my body and back up to my pecs.

"Did he do this? Touch you like this?" His thumb skims over my nipple, through my camisole, softly, repeatedly, and it hardens under his expert touch.

"No." I writhe beneath him.

"Did he get to second base?" he murmurs in my ear. His hand moves down across my ribs, past my waist to my hip. He takes my earlobe between his teeth and gently tugs.

"No," I breathe.

Mulder blurts from the television something about the FBI's most unwanted.

Taehyung pauses, leans up, and presses mute on the remote. He gazes down at me.

"What about Joe Schmo number two? Did he make it past second base?"

His eyes are smoldering hot . . . angry? Turned on? It's difficult to say which.

He shifts to my side and slides his hand beneath my sweatpants.

"No," I whisper, trapped in his carnal gaze. Taehyung smiles wickedly.

"Good." His hand cups my private area. "No underwear, Mister Kim. I approve." He kisses me again as his fingers weave more magic, his thumb skimming over my tip, tantalizing me, as he pushes up more on his side with with exquisite slowness.

"We're supposed to be making out." I groan.

Taehyung stills. "I thought we were?"

"No. No sex."

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