Chapter 42: CRIMSON OBSESSION

 

Marked & Unbroken

The soft click of the cuffs unlocking echoed in the dimly lit room. Taehyung’s wrists ached as Jungkook finally released him, the skin around them raw from his struggles. His body was still trembling—not from weakness, but from the relentless torment Jungkook had subjected him to. The denial, the control, the utter humiliation of being pushed to his limits without being allowed to break. It was intoxicating.

Yet, as Jungkook stepped back, a victorious smirk on his lips, Taehyung realized the torment wasn’t over.

“Put it on.”

Taehyung’s gaze flickered downward, his breath hitching as he saw what Jungkook held between his fingers. A sleek, black leather collar, adorned with a single silver ring at the center.

His eyes darkened. “You’re joking.”

Jungkook merely tilted his head. “Do I look like I’m joking?”

A rush of fury mixed with something far more dangerous—exhilaration. Taehyung should have been furious, should have lunged at Jungkook, fought him, but instead, he just stared at the collar, his fingers twitching with the urge to rip it away—or maybe, to let it rest against his skin just to see what it would feel like.

Jungkook, as if sensing his hesitation, stepped forward, gripping Taehyung’s jaw tightly. His voice was low, dangerous. “You belong to me. No one else gets to touch you, look at you, even think of you like I do.” He traced a finger down Taehyung’s throat, right where the collar would sit. “This is proof of that.”

A shiver ran down Taehyung’s spine. His pride demanded he refuse, his instincts screamed at him to fight—but his body? His body betrayed him.

With a smirk, Jungkook reached behind his neck and fastened the collar, the leather cool against Taehyung’s overheated skin. He felt the weight of it, the undeniable reality that Jungkook had claimed him in a way no one ever had before. His fingers twitched at his sides, itching to rip it off.

Taehyung’s breath was uneven; not sure if it was because of too much anger, humiliation, or something else. His body was taut with tension as Jungkook’s fingers danced over his skin—never enough, always teasing, keeping him locked in a maddening limbo between frustration and surrender.

"You’re shaking, Taehyung," Jungkook murmured, his voice carrying that infuriating mix of amusement and control.

Taehyung’s fingers curled into fists, knuckles white from force. "You wish," he spat, but the tremor in his breath betrayed him.

Jungkook chuckled, trailing his fingers down the length of Taehyung’s thigh, the touch featherlight yet searing. "I don’t have to wish," he countered smoothly. "I can feel it. Every time I touch you, your body reacts. Even now, you're holding back so hard it’s almost cute."

Taehyung’s jaw clenched. He hated this—the way Jungkook played him like a well-tuned instrument, every note struck with cruel precision. "I won’t beg," he growled, his pride unwavering even as his body threatened to collapse under the weight of restraint.

Jungkook hummed, tracing the outline of Taehyung’s ribs with the pad of his thumb, his touch deliberately slow. "Yet," he corrected, the word laced with absolute certainty.

Taehyung’s eyes flashed with defiance, burning with the last vestiges of control he refused to relinquish. "Never."

Jungkook only smirked at his resistance. He leaned in, his lips brushing the shell of Taehyung’s ear, his voice nothing but a taunt wrapped in silk. "You say that now," he murmured, the amusement in his tone sending a shiver down Taehyung’s spine. "But let’s see how long that pride lasts when I decide to stop playing."

And with that, Jungkook’s patience snapped, and the real torment began.

“You can leave now.” Jungkook’s words were sharp, dismissive.

Taehyung’s head snapped up. “What?”

Jungkook gestured toward the door. “Get out. Go home.”

A twisted knot formed in Taehyung’s stomach. After everything—after pushing him, breaking him, forcing him to submit—Jungkook was just letting him go? Just like that?

Taehyung gritted his teeth, forcing his legs to move. His body was still aching, his muscles weak, but he refused to let Jungkook see it. He walked out of the room, out of the strange apartment Jungkook had taken him to, but the moment he stepped into the cold night air, his mind was in chaos.

His fingers reached up, touching the collar still wrapped snugly around his throat. He should have ripped it off the second he was outside, but instead, his grip tightened around it.

Why did he like it?

Why did he crave more?

The images replayed in his mind—Jungkook’s dominance, the way his voice had commanded him, the pleasure mixed with pain, the way he had been completely at Jungkook’s mercy. But what stirred him the most, what ignited something dark and possessive inside him, was Jungkook’s face—his pleasure, his control, the way his own body had trembled with barely restrained hunger.

Taehyung’s lips curled into a wicked smirk.

Jungkook thought he had won this round.

But Taehyung wasn’t the type to submit easily.

He wanted to see Jungkook under him, tied down, breathless, moaning his name the way he had moaned for him.

He would make Jungkook beg.

And when he did, Taehyung would make sure he never forgot who he truly belonged to.

To Be Continued...

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