Kill Me Or Kiss Me? (JenKook)

17

Jennie

I strip out of my pants and top, throwing them in the
corner angrily.

He's jealous.

When the hell did we get into any kind of territory where jealousy was a factor?

What is this, the middle ages?

And Jimin, really?

I go into the bathroom and start the shower. Gripping the edge of the sink I lean over it, trying to calm my erratic pulse as I wait for the water to become red hot. When I look up, I make out a dark figure in the foggy reflection of the mirror.

Turning around, I find Jungkook leaning against the doorframe, his arms folded over his chest and a scowl on his face.

"Get out." I snap.

He completely ignores me and steps into the bathroom, moving closer. "No."

His body presses against mine, backing me into the counter behind me. He towers over me, his broad shoulders blocking out everything that isn't him. The soft material of his shirt brushes against my bare stomach, and his fingers wrap around my jaw, bringing his face close to mine.

His eyes are dark and turbulent, the threat lurking just beneath the surface. Tension radiates off him in waves that has my heart skittering in my chest like a startled animal.

His mood is pitch-black tonight.

"You don't let Jimin fucking touch you." He growls.

I shove at his chest but he doesn't budge.

"You're seriously jealous? You realise that's totally irrational?"

He says nothing, and I shake my head. "Fuck you, Jungkook."

He raises a brow. "Gladly, but I don't share, jugeum."

"I'm not yours to share." I taunt.

He laughs. "You don't think so? Too bad."

His hand slips from my face, wrapping around the back of my neck before he slams his lips over mine. I rake my nails down the side of his neck and attempt to bring my hand to push his chest the hardest I can, but it does nothing.

A low laugh rumbles against my lips before his teeth skim my bottom lip and his tongue demands entrance. Gripping my hair at the back of my neck, he uses it to leverage my head back. My lips part: his tongue lashing against mine is nothing short of an assault.

This isn't a kiss, it's a statement. I don't know how he can make me want to fuck him and slit his throat all in the same breath.

That fog descends until all I can think of, feel, smell is him. He's toxic in the most addictive way.

Releasing my hair, he trails his fingers down my shoulder blades, reaching for the clasp of my bra. With the briefest flick of his wrist, it comes loose and he drags it down my arms. He tears his lips from mine, dropping his face to my chest. I fight not to gasp when his mouth sucks around my nipple, my fingers flying to his hair.

His fingers leave a burning trail down my sides until he's grabbing the material of my panties, sliding them over my thighs and removing them. A small voice in my head screams at me to stop this, but he renders me so weak.

Gripping my waist, he lifts me, placing me on the edge of the counter. Teeth sink into my neck as he grasps the inside of my thighs, wrenching them further apart. My breath seizes in my lungs and my skin feels like it's on fire. Tremors rip over my skin as I watch him watching me, those dark eyes igniting as he drags them over my naked body.