The King’s hand closed over her breast with a proprietary brutality, his calloused palm engulfing the soft, yielding flesh. He lifted it, testing its weight, his fingers kneading with a slow, appraising pressure that made her cried harder,whimpering and turn her face away in shame.

A dark chuckle rumbled from his chest as he felt the heaviness of it, the way it filled his grip like ripe fruit.

"Soft," he murmured, his thumb circling the tender peak. "Heavy. But these will grow fuller, little bride. Swollen and aching from my mouth. I will suck them until they leak for me, until the weight of them reminds you who owns this flesh."she was trembling.

Before she could process his vulgar promise, his fingers found her nipple and pinched—hard. A sharp, white-hot bolt of pain lanced through her chest, and Y/N screamed, terrified of getting raped by her own father in law …her back arching off the mattress, her voice cracking against the vaulted ceiling.

He held the pressure, watching her face contort, her mouth open in a silent shriek, until tears streamed down her temples and into her hair.

Then he released her, only to rub his thumb over the throbbing, sensitized bud in slow, merciless circles. The pain dulled into something else, something that made her tremble violently, her hands clawing at the sheets beneath her. She was shaking her head, whispering "no, no, please," but he ignored her, his eyes fixed on the way her nipple stiffened against his touch despite her terror.

"Look how it betrays you," he growled.

He lowered his head, his dark hair brushing against her chest, and took her bruised nipple into his mouth. The heat and wet suction made her cry out—a raw, desperate sound—as he suckled with a ravenous hunger, his tongue lashing against the tender peak, his teeth grazing the sensitive flesh. He feasted on her like a starving man, pulling her breast deeper, the obscene sounds of his sucking filling the chamber. Y/N screamed and begged, her hands pushing against his shoulders, but he was immovable stone, relentless in his consumption.

For what felt like an hour, he moved between her breasts, leaving them glistening and marked, the skin around her nipples darkening into vivid bruises—purple and red evidence of his mouth. When he finally pulled back, her chest was heaving, her breasts throbbing and swollen, the nipples erect and aching from his attentions.

"Beautiful," he rasped, his voice thick with lust.

He moved lower, his large hands gripping her thighs. With a sudden, brutal force, he spanked her—first one thigh, then the other, the sharp slaps echoing through the room. Y/N yelped, her legs instinctively trying to close, but he forced them apart with his knees.

"Spread wider for your Majesty," he commanded, his eyes burning as he stared at the most intimate part of her. "Show me your pussy."

Panic surged through her. She couldn't—she wouldn't. With a burst of desperate strength, she tried to scramble away, to run, to escape the bed and the horror of what was happening. But Jungkook roared—a sound of pure, animal fury—and lunged.

"You dare?" he snarled.

He grabbed the silk sashes he had prepared and jerked her wrists, tying them tighter to the bedposts until her arms were stretched painfully above her, her shoulders aching, her mobility completely stolen. She was trapped, spread and vulnerable beneath him, sobbing as he positioned himself between her legs.

His fingers hooked into her folds, spreading her open with a rough, clinical possessiveness. He leaned down, his face inches from her core, and inhaled deeply—a long, guttural groan vibrating from his throat.

"Sweet," he growled, his eyes fluttering closed in perverse pleasure. "Like honey and fear. I will feast on this cunt every night until the scent of me replaces your own."

He plunged two thick fingers inside her without warning, stretching her unprepared channel with a brutal force that tore a scream from her lungs. He finger-fucked her with hard, punishing thrusts, his knuckles bumping against her entrance, his thumb grinding against her clit with each stroke. Y/N's breathing came in frantic, panicked gasps, her hips bucking involuntarily, tears streaming down her face as she begged him to stop, to let her go, to have mercy.

She came with a wail of despair, her walls clamping down on his invading fingers, her back arching as pleasure ripped through her against her will.

Jungkook laughed—a dark, victorious sound—and withdrew his fingers only to replace them with his mouth. He sucked her clit hard, his tongue lashing and flicking with merciless precision, forcing her overstimulated body toward another peak. She came again within minutes, her screams hoarse, her mind fracturing under the assault of sensations she didn't want but couldn't deny.

"Good," he purred, rising up, his chin glistening with her arousal. "Now you are ready."

He positioned himself at her entrance, his massive erection throbbing and heavy. With one powerful, relentless thrust, he entered her, tearing through her virginity with a violence that made her see white. Y/N screamed—her heart, her soul, her body all screaming in unison—as he buried himself to the hilt inside her tight, resisting heat.

He didn't wait for her to adjust. He pounded into her with savage force, each thrust driving the air from her lungs, his hips slamming against hers with a wet, brutal rhythm. She cried out with every stroke, the pain overwhelming, burning, as he stretched her around his girth, using her body for his pleasure without regard for her tears or her begging.

For two hours—a relentless, torturous eternity—he took her. He changed positions, flipping her onto her stomach despite her bound wrists, pulling her hips up and driving into her from behind, then back onto her back to watch her face as he ruined her. He was a machine of dominance, sweat slicking his chest, his muscles rippling as he claimed her completely.

Finally, with a roar that shook the walls, he thrust deep and held, his body convulsing as he released inside her. Thick, hot pulses flooded her womb, marking her from within, and he growled—low and primal—as he emptied himself, his hips jerking with aftershocks.

When he finished, he didn't withdraw. He collapsed onto her, his full naked weight pressing her into the mattress, crushing the breath from her. His sweat mingled with her tears, his heart hammering against her bruised breasts. He wrapped his arms around her ruined body, his hands possessively cupping her soft skin, his face buried in her neck.

"Beautiful ," he whispered, sated and heavy.

And then, still buried inside her, his seed leaking from between her legs, King Jungkook closed his eyes and slept upon her—using her body as his mattress, his blanket, his conquered territory—leaving her trapped beneath the crushing weight of her father in law.