The heat didn't creep in this time. It slammed into Kang-woo like a truck at full speed.
One minute he was in the shower trying to scrub the gala off his skin, the next his legs gave out and he hit the marble on his knees. Fire under every inch of him. Slick poured down his thighs, hot and obscene, mixing with the water. His hole clenched around nothing, aching so bad he bit his own arm to keep from moaning out loud.
"Fuck… fuck…" The words came out in that pretty voice, all broken and needy. He hated it. Hated how empty he felt. Hated that his body was screaming for an Alpha—for Ji-woon.
The bathroom door opened.
Ji-woon stood there in nothing but suit pants, shirt already unbuttoned, eyes black with intent. He didn't ask. He didn't need to. The Alpha scent rolled in thick enough to choke on and Kang-woo's body answered like it had been waiting its whole life.
"Seung-ho."
"Don't—" Kang-woo tried, but it came out as a whimper. He curled in on himself under the spray, shaking. "I can do this alone. Get the fuck out."
Ji-woon stepped into the shower fully clothed, water soaking the expensive fabric. He hauled Kang-woo up against his chest like he weighed nothing, one big hand sliding down to cup his ass, fingers brushing the slick mess there.
"You're mine," he said against Kang-woo's ear, voice low and rough. "Let me take care of you."
It wasn't gentle. It wasn't sweet. But when Ji-woon's mouth crashed down on his, Kang-woo stopped fighting. He bit the Alpha's lip hard enough to taste blood and Ji-woon growled, lifting him clean off the floor and carrying him to the bed like a prize.
Clothes hit the floor in seconds. Ji-woon's cock was thick, heavy, already leaking at the tip when he shoved Kang-woo onto his back and spread his thighs wide. The first push in was brutal—wet, filthy, stretching him open in one long thrust that punched the air out of his lungs.
"Shit—too big—" Kang-woo gasped, nails digging into Ji-woon's shoulders. The burn was perfect. The fullness made his eyes roll back.
Ji-woon didn't slow down. He fucked like he owned him, hips snapping hard, one hand pinning Kang-woo's wrists above his head while the other gripped his hip hard enough to bruise. Every thrust dragged against that spot inside that made stars explode behind Kang-woo's eyes.
"Fuck, you feel so good," Ji-woon growled, voice wrecked. "So tight. So wet for me."
Kang-woo hated how much he liked the praise. Hated the broken moans spilling out of his own mouth. He cursed the whole time—filthy street words mixed with the soft little cries his new throat made—and Ji-woon just fucked him harder for it.
Then the knot started to swell.
Kang-woo felt it push against his rim, huge and hot, stretching him wider than he thought possible. Panic and lust slammed together so hard his brain short-circuited.
"No—no, wait—fuck, it's too much—"
Ji-woon pinned him down and shoved the rest of the way in. The knot popped inside with a wet, obscene sound and locked them together. Kang-woo came instantly, untouched, cock spurting between their stomachs while his hole clenched and fluttered around the massive swell.
Ji-woon groaned like he was dying, hips grinding in tiny circles, flooding him with hot pulses of come that Kang-woo could actually feel filling him up. The pressure was insane. The fullness was insane. He came again just from the feeling of being knotted, body shaking, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes.
He hated how good it felt. Hated how safe and claimed and right it made him feel.
Ji-woon stayed locked inside him for what felt like hours, murmuring low praise against his neck, licking the sweat from his throat, biting down just hard enough to leave marks. When the knot finally went down, Kang-woo was a wrecked, trembling mess—covered in come, slick, and bite marks, voice hoarse from screaming.
Ji-woon cleaned him up with a warm cloth like it was the most natural thing in the world, then pulled him against his chest and held him through the aftershocks until Kang-woo passed out.
Morning light hit the bed like an accusation.
Kang-woo woke up alone in the sheets, body sore in the best and worst ways. His neck throbbed. He reached up and felt the fresh bite mark—deep, claiming, right over his scent gland. Ji-woon's scent was all over him. Inside him. Part of him now.
He sat up fast, heart hammering.
What the fuck did I do?
The terror hit harder than the heat. He was getting attached. To the cold, terrifying Alpha who could ruin him with one phone call. To the man who had knotted him senseless and then held him like something precious.
Kang-woo stared at the mark in the mirror across the room, fingers tracing the teeth marks.
This wasn't supposed to happen. He was supposed to survive this cage, not start wanting to stay in it.
But the ache between his legs and the warm, satisfied thrum in his chest said otherwise.
And somewhere in the mansion, Ji-woon was already waiting for him to slip up again.
Kang-woo buried his face in his hands and whispered the only thing that felt true.
"I'm so fucking screwed."