Chapter 2: Mine by Morning
Jaehyun POV
I've always hated the word "want."
Want is weak. Want is negotiable. Want is what children feel when they see candy behind glass.
I don't want things.
I take them.
Yet here I am, standing on the 42nd floor, watching Kang Rael sleep in my bed like he was carved to fit it, and the only word looping in my head is want.
Pathetic.
He's facedown, one arm dangling off the edge, sheet tangled low around his hips. The marks I left on his shoulder blades are already blooming purple. Good. I want them darker tomorrow.
I never bring anyone here. Not lovers, not friends, not even family. This floor is the one place in the world that still belongs entirely to me. And last night I dragged a drunk intern into it like a dragon hoarding something shiny.
I should regret it.
I don't.
He signed. Willingly. Eyes wide, lips swollen from my mouth, hand steady when he wrote his name on the line that made him mine for 365 days.
I've signed bigger contracts (mergers worth hundreds of billions) without blinking. That one felt heavier than all of them combined.
He stirs. Makes a small sound (half whimper, half sigh) and buries his face deeper into my pillow. My pillow now smells like him: cheap citrus shampoo and something warmer underneath that's just Rael.
I want to crawl back in and start round four, but the clock on the nightstand says 5:47 a.m. and I have a board meeting at nine. Grandfather will be there. He'll smell the sex on me from across the table and smile that thin, satisfied smile that says he finally won.
He didn't win.
I did.
I just haven't decided what the prize is yet.
Rael rolls over. Eyes still closed, he reaches blindly across the bed (searching for me). When his hand finds empty air, his brows pinch together like he's in pain.
Something sharp twists under my ribs.
I sit on the edge of the mattress and catch his wrist before he can pull it back. His pulse jumps under my thumb.
"Morning," I say, voice rough from last night's growling.
His eyes flutter open. Golden brown, still hazy with sleep and the memory of me inside him. He blushes (actually blushes) like he didn't scream my name until his throat gave out six hours ago.
"Jaehyun," he whispers, testing it again.
I lean down and bite his lower lip, just hard enough to remind him who it belongs to now.
"You're sore," I state.
He nods, cheeks darker.
"Good."
I kiss the bite gentle this time, then stand before I do something stupid like call off the entire day.
"Shower's through there. Everything you need is inside. Wear what's on the chair."
He sits up slowly, sheet pooling at his waist. My mouth goes dry. I turn away.
"Jaehyun?"
I pause at the doorway.
"Last night… did I… was I… okay?"
The uncertainty in his voice is a knife.
I look back. He's clutching the sheet like it can protect him from whatever answer I give.
I cross the room in three strides, fist my hand in his hair, and kiss him until he's gasping.
"You were perfect," I say against his mouth. "And you're going to be perfect every single night from now on."
His eyes shine (relief, lust, fear, all mixed together). I want to drown in it.
I force myself to let go.
"Downstairs in twenty minutes. Driver will take you home to change, then to the office. You're still an intern. For now."
He nods, dazed.
I leave before I lock the door and keep him here forever.
In the elevator down to the private garage I catch my reflection: hair messy, lips swollen, the faintest red scratch on my neck where he clawed me when he came the second time.
I look human.
Dangerous.
The contract says one year.
I already know I'm going to break it.
Because some things, once you take them, you don't give back.
And Kang Rael stopped being an intern the second he stepped into my elevator.
He's mine.
And I'm never letting the 365 days end.