𝐑𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐓𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 || 𝐌𝐄𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐄/𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐖𝐎𝐍

Chapter Eight

The figure on the bed seemed to stop breathing, going rigid at the sound of his voice.

Mingyu's brows furrowed. The boy was scared of him. While it was neither unexpected nor entirely unwelcome, it would only complicate things. He couldn't have Wonwoo fearing him too much. This time he needed...a gentler approach if he was to accomplish what he had decided to do after seeing Wonwoo's reaction to the punishment. The way the boy had clung to him, seeking comfort and trusting him enough to fall into exhausted sleep in Mingyu's presence...it had opened new possibilities.

There were certainly far easier, faster, and less convoluted ways to make Jeon Taesoo pay, but this one would crush Jeon if implemented right. If Mingyu could condition Jeon's only son, make the boy completely dependent on him, then he would have the keys to what Jeon treasured the most: Jeon Industries, his pride and joy. Mingyu wasn't too concerned that Jeon didn't trust his son. If the boy had no clue about business, all the better.

Hold your fucking horses, Mingyu told himself. As the proverb went, he mustn't put the cart before the horse. He had to gain Wonwoo's affections first for the plan to work. That wasn't going to be easy, even taking into account Wonwoo's submissive inclinations.

The truth was, Mingyu had misgivings about the plan. He didn't like what he couldn't control.

And he couldn't quite control his own reactions that morning. When he had found himself with an armful of shaking, needy boy, it hadn't been a conscious decision to comfort him. It was all instinct. Wonwoo's submissiveness had messed with his head, making him react instinctively—as any good Dom would react to a sub's physical and emotional needs after a scene. The problem was, the punishment he had given Wonwoo was never meant to be anything but punishment. The boy's needy body language afterward shouldn't have triggered his instincts.

But it did.

Mingyu was no stranger to power play. He derived a certain pleasure from power games in everyday life; sometimes, if the mood was right, his body itched for it, too. Most people considered him a cruel man, and they weren't wrong. But he wasn't a cruel lover, never had been. Granted, he wasn't a gentle lover, either. He liked it rough, liked the rush of power he got when he reduced someone into a pliant, submissive mess—it was far more arousing than rape and the unnecessary cruelty some of his people indulged in—but he took good care of his sex partners. Sexual gratification wasn't always the point when he was in the mood to play, but normally an attractive woman's genuine submission made him want to fuck her. Mingyu had never thought a male could affect him the same way, yet this young man with his obscenely pretty lips and natural submissiveness did, and Mingyu had found himself wanting to do wicked things to him for hours before tucking him in.

He hadn't, of course. He still had some self-control left.

But now it was being tested again.

Wonwoo was still barely breathing. Mingyu's eyes moved away from the mop of curls to the boy's tense neck, down his back clad in Mingyu's own shirt, to the perky, perfect little ass and shapely, toned legs.

Gritting his teeth, Mingyu tore his gaze away and rounded the bed.

The boy's eyes were wide open, his cherry pink lips parted slightly. Wonwoo licked them. "Why are you here?" he said, finally tugging the hem of Mingyu's shirt down.

Mingyu's eyes tracked the movement. He sat down on the bed, inches away from Wonwoo's head.

The boy visibly stiffened, watching him warily. In the yellow light of the lamp his hair looked like a dark halo.

"This is my house," Mingyu said. "Everything in this house is mine. You're not a guest here. I can come and go as I please. I don't have to explain myself to you. I can do whatever I want." I can do whatever I want to you.