CWC- 2

The morning sun filtered through the heavy velvet curtains, but for Y/n, the light only highlighted the ache in her lower body. Every time she tried to shift, a sharp, pulsing throb radiated from between her thighs.

"Please, just stay still, Miss," one of the maids whispered, carefully placing a tray of eggs and fruit on the bedside table.

"I can't... I can't feel my legs," Y/n whimpered, a tear sliding down her fair cheek.

"Mr. Jeon was very clear," the maid replied, her voice trembling. "He said you are to be pampered today. He knows he was... rigorous with you."

Y/n sobbed softly, the sound a broken hic in the silence of the room. "I just want to go home."

The maid looked away, her expression pained. "I cannot help you with that. Please, just eat."

Y/n spent the day in a haze of luxury and despair, eating her meals in bed, her mind looping through the memory of JK’s weight and the way he had claimed her. By evening, the door opened again. Two maids entered, carrying a garment that made Y/n’s heart sink. It was a black silk frock, dangerously short, with a neckline that plunged nearly to her navel.

"I'm not wearing that," Y/n snapped, clutching the sheets to her chest.

"Please, Miss Y/n," the first maid pleaded, her eyes wide with fear. "He ordered it. If you don't wear it, he'll... he'll be furious with us."

"I don't care! It's indecent!"

The second maid stepped forward, her grip firm as she pulled the sheets away. "We don't want to die, Miss. Please, just cooperate."

They dressed her forcefully, tugging the tight fabric over her curves until her breasts were pushed up, spilling over the lace edge, and her thick thighs were barely covered. Just as they finished, the door slammed open.

JK stood there, his eyes scanning her from head to toe. His gaze lingered on the deep valley of her cleavage, and Y/n saw the visible bulge in his trousers immediately harden.

"Look at you," he rasped, his voice dripping with lust. "My little cake, wrapped in black. Those tits look like they're begging to be tasted."

"Stop it," she whispered, shrinking back.

"Stop? I've been thinking about those curves all day in board meetings," he growled. He crossed the room in a blur, grabbing her by the waist and hoisting her onto the dresser. Thud.

"You're so fat in all the right places," he murmured, his hand squeezing her thigh hard. "It makes me want to devour you."

He didn't wait for an answer. He leaned in, his mouth capturing one breast, sucking the nipple hard. Slurp. Y/n let out a gasp, her head hitting the mirror behind her.

"Mmm, you taste like sugar," he groaned. With a sudden, violent motion, he gripped the neckline of the frock and ripped it down the middle. Rrip! The fabric gave way, exposing her fully to his hungry eyes.

He slid down, his tongue finding her center. Lick. Slurp.

"Ah! No... please!" she cried out, but her hips instinctively arched into his mouth.

"You love it," he mumbled against her skin. He moved back up, his fingers diving deep into her. Squelch. He pumped them in and out rapidly, the sound of her own wetness filling the room.

"You're so wet for me again, even after last night," he chuckled darkly.

He didn't stop there. He spent the entire night reclaiming every inch of her, his possessiveness bordering on madness. He railed her until she was sobbing, then kissed her tears, then did it again. Whenever she tried to sleep, he woke her with a bite to her shoulder or a hand between her legs.

When dawn finally broke, he didn't let her out of his sight. He scooped her up, her body limp and exhausted, and carried her into the massive marble bathroom.

"I'm too tired to move," she moaned.

"Then I'll move for you," he whispered, stepping into the steaming shower with her.

As the water cascaded over them, he pressed her back against the cold tiles, his hands roaming shamelessly over her body. He entered her again right there under the spray, the water lubricating their friction.

"You're never leaving this room, Y/n," he gasped, his pace increasing. "You're my toy. My wife. My obsession."

"I hate you," she sobbed, though she clung to his neck for support.

"Hate me all you want," he groaned, his voice a low rumble. "As long as you're screaming my name."