my step son #2

As the months passed, Taehyung's rise to power was meteoric and unstoppable. What had once been a small-time gang under his command now sprawled across continents, a vast and terrifying empire built on the back of the illegal and the forbidden. They whispered his name in the shadows, the ruthless mafia king who ruled with an iron fist and a heart of ice.

And through it all, Yn stood by his side, a formidable businesswoman in her own right. She was the picture of poise and elegance, a silver-haired temptress who could bring men to their knees with a single smile. Her company, a sprawling conglomerate with tendrils in every industry imaginable, was the legal face of their empire, the front through which they laundered their ill-gotten gains.

But behind closed doors, in the sanctity of their shared bedroom, Taehyung was not the feared mafia king. No, in the presence of his beloved mother, he was a different man entirely. A man-child, a baby, all but helpless and completely dependent on Yn's care and guidance.

"Mummy," Taehyung whined, his voice a petulant, childish whine as he clung to Yn's skirts, his big muscular body trembling with the force of his tantrum. "I want... I want my boobies, Mummy. I want you to hold me and make it all better."

Yn cooed softly, her voice a gentle murmur as she gathered her baby boy into her arms, cradling him against her chest. "Shhh, my darling, my sweet little prince," she crooned, stroking his hair, his face, his back. "Mummy's got you, sweetheart. Mummy's got her baby."

She could feel the way his big, strong body melted against hers, could feel the way his muscles relaxed and his breathing evened out as he burrowed into her embrace. To the world, he was a monster, a ruthless killer, a man who commanded fear and respect in equal measure.

But to Yn, he would always be her baby, her little boy, her sweet and innocent child. She would embrace his tantrums, would soothe and coddle him through every fit and every rage, until he was calm and content once more.

Even in the most intimate of moments, like when he needed to relieve himself, Taehyung would call for his mother like a child, his voice a plaintive cry that never failed to make Yn's heart clench with love and adoration.

"Mummy, I need to pee," he would whine, his voice a childish, petulant whine as he hopped from foot to foot. "Mummy, I can't hold it anymore. Please, please help me, Mummy."

And without fail, Yn would drop everything, would rush to her baby's side, her heart swelling with love and devotion. She would take him by the hand, would lead him to the bathroom, and would stand by his side as he relieved himself, her soothing words and gentle touches guiding him through even the most intimate of acts.

"Good boy," she would praise softly, her voice a gentle murmur as she stroked his hair, his face, his back. "Such a good, brave boy. Mummy's so proud of you, darling."

And as he peed or pooped, his face would relax, his body would melt, and he would be a child again, a baby, completely and utterly dependent on his mother's love and care.

To the outside world, their relationship was a source of scandal and outrage. They whispered about the silver-haired temptress who had bewitched the mafia king, who had turned him into her puppet, her plaything. They shook their heads in disgust at the way she enabled his childish behavior, his petulant tantrums, his wild and unpredictable moods.

But Yn didn't care. Let them whisper, let them gossip, let them judge. She knew the truth - that her baby needed her, that he was a child at heart, a boy who craved his mother's love and affection above all else.

And so she gave it to him, freely and without reservation. She held him, she soothed him, she rocked him, she sang to him, she fed him, she bathed him, she loved him with every fiber of her being. She was his mother, his lover, his guiding light, his everything.

And in return, Taehyung gave her his heart, his soul, his very essence. He was her baby, her little boy, her sweet and innocent child. And together, they would rule the world, a terrifying and beautiful force of nature, a mother and son (step son ops)

The living room had been transformed into an impromptu war room, the once elegant space now dominated by a massive table strewn with maps, documents, and the gleaming faces of expensive laptops. Taehyung lounged on the plush sofa, his muscular body clad in nothing but a pair of tight, black joggers that left little to the imagination. His chiseled torso was bare, a testament to the countless hours he spent honing his physique.

As the various mafia bigwigs filed in, a motley crew of hardened criminals and ruthless businessmen, they couldn't help but cast appreciative glances at the mafia king's physique. With him were their entourages, a bevy of scantily clad beauties, their barely-there outfits leaving little to the imagination. They giggled and preened, trying to catch Taehyung's eye, desperate to secure a place in his bed and his good graces.

But Taehyung paid them no mind, his icy blue gaze sweeping over the room, his expression one of utter boredom and disdain. Beside him, Yn sat regally, her back straight, her head held high. She was the picture of elegance and sophistication, her silver hair swept up in an elegant chignon, her dress a shimmering expanse of silk and lace that hugged her curves like a second skin.

As the meeting began, the various mafia men took their seats, their eyes darting between the documents before them and the tantalizing sight of Taehyung's bare chest. They spoke of territories, of shipments, of the delicate balance of power that kept their illicit empires thriving.

Taehyung listened, his expression impassive, his fingers drumming a staccato rhythm against the armrest of the sofa. Occasionally, he would lean forward, his elbows resting on his knees, his chin cupped in his hand as he studied the maps before him. His eyes would narrow, his jaw would tighten, and the room would grow cold with the force of his concentration.

Whenever a particularly brazen slut would try to catch his eye, to lean forward and offer a generous view of her cleavage, Taehyung would shoot them a look that could curdle milk. A single, withering glare that spoke volumes about the consequences of overstepping their bounds.

Yn watched, her heart swelling with pride and love for her baby boy. He was a force to be reckoned with, a king among men. She loved the way he commanded respect, the way he held the room in the palm of his hand, the way he made grown men tremble with a single word, a single gesture.

As the meeting droned on, Yn felt Taehyung's hand find hers beneath the table. His fingers tangled with hers, his palm warm and slightly damp against her skin. She turned to look at him, a soft smile playing at the corners of her mouth.

"My darling," she murmured, leaning in close to whisper in his ear. "You're doing so well, my sweet. I'm so proud of you, my love."

Taehyung flashed her a grin, a quick, boyish smile that was at odds with the dangerous aura he exuded. "Thanks, Mumma," he whispered back, his voice a low, intimate rumble. "I couldn't do it without you, my goddess."

And with that, he turned his attention back to the meeting, his fingers never leaving her hand. As the negotiations continued, the air growing thick with tension and the weight of the deals being struck, Taehyung never missed a beat.

He would pause, mid-sentence, to tug at Yn's dress strap, to let it slip down her shoulder, to bare the creamy skin beneath. He would lean in, his lips brushing against the sensitive flesh of her neck, to murmur filthy praise and dark promises.

"Fuck, Mumma," he would rasp, his breath hot against her skin. "You're so fucking gorgeous. I can't concentrate on anything else when you look like that."

Yn would shiver, a thrill running down her spine as she arched into his touch. "Shh, baby," she would coo, her fingers threading through his hair. "Focus, my love. Show them all what a brilliant, terrifying man you are."

And Taehyung would, his mind sharp as a razor's edge, his tongue a wicked, wicked thing as he tore through the negotiations, his demands and decrees leaving the other men reeling.

All the mafia men's nodded to Taehyung trying to win his trust to gain his attention.

As the meeting droned on, Taehyung grew increasingly restless, his attention divided between the monotonous negotiations and the tantalizing presence of his beloved mother beside him. He could feel the eyes of the room on him, could sense the desperation of the mafia men to win his favor, to secure a deal that would cement their own power and prestige.

But Taehyung had eyes only for Yn, his gaze a physical caress as it roamed over her body, drinking in every dip and curve. Unable to resist, he shifted closer to her, until their thighs were pressed together, until he could feel the heat of her skin burning through the thin fabric of her dress.

"Mumma," he murmured, his voice a low, intimate rumble as he leaned in to nuzzle at her neck.

Yn shivered, a soft gasp escaping her lips as she felt the warmth of his breath on her skin, but she said nothing. she just cooed, her fingers threading through his hair, holding him close.

Taehyung let his hand drift to her shoulder, his fingers toying with the strap of her dress. He tugged it down slowly, his knuckles brushing against the creamy skin of her collarbone, until the delicate lace of her bra peeked out, a tantalizing glimpse of the treasure trove beneath.

"Fuck, Mumma," he groaned, his voice a low, guttural sound that sent shivers down Yn's spine. "I want to rip this dress off you, to lay you out on this table and feast on every inch of you."

Yn's breath hitched, her nipples pebbling beneath the thin lace of her bra as she felt the heat of his gaze, the weight of his desire. "Later, my darling," she promised, her voice a husky whisper. "When we're alone, I'll let you do anything you want to me. Anything at all."

As they spoke, the meeting continued around them, the mafia men growing increasingly desperate to catch Taehyung's attention. A particularly brazen slut, clad in nothing her body nacked shaved pussy with huge Fake boobs and plastic face, sashayed over to where they sat, her hips swaying, her tits bouncing with each step.

She leaned over the table, giving Taehyung a generous view of her, her fingers toying with the string of her top. "Is there anything I can do to make this meeting more... pleasant for you, Mr.kim?" she purred, her voice a saccharine sweet.

Taehyung didn't even spare her a glance, his attention solely focused on Yn. But Yn saw the way his jaw clenched, the way his eyes flashed with a sudden, dangerous light. She placed a soothing hand on his thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"ignore her, baby," she murmured, her voice a low, calming sound. "She's nothing compared to you. You're the king here, my love. You make the rules."

Taehyung took a deep breath, his hand drifting down to Yn's thigh, his fingers slipping beneath the hem of her skirt. He could feel the heat of her skin, the softness of her flesh, and he knew that he wanted nothing more than to bury himself inside her, to lose himself in the sweet, slick heat of her cunt.

But he had a job to do, a kingdom to run, and he wouldn't let anyone, not even a desperate, wanton slut, distract him from his duties. So he turned his attention back to the meeting, his voice a low, dangerous rumble as he spoke.

"Gentlemen," he said, his gaze sweeping over the room, his eyes hard and cold. "I'm not interested in your whores or your bribes. I'm interested in one thing and one thing only - power. And I won't let anything, or anyone, stand in my way of getting it."

As he spoke, his hand drifted higher up Yn's thigh, his fingers brushing against the damp lace of her panties. He could feel the heat of her, the way her body responded to his touch, and he knew that she was just as affected by his presence as he was by hers.

As the meeting wore on, the atmosphere in the room grew thick and heavy, the air practically crackling with tension and a dark, undercurrent of danger. Taehyung could feel it, could taste it on his tongue like the metallic tang of blood. He reveled in it, fed off of it, his power and his control growing with each passing moment.

His hand slid higher up Yn's thigh, his fingers pushing the lace of her panties aside to stroke the slick, heated flesh of her pussy. She was already so wet, so ready for him, and he couldn't help but groan at the feeling of her, so soft and pliant and perfect beneath his touch.

"Fuck, Mumma," he growled, his voice a low, feral sound that sent shivers down Yn's spine. "You're so fucking wet for me. Such a needy little thing, aren't you? Always ready for your baby boy's cock."

Yn bit her lip, a soft whimper escaping her as she felt his fingers delve deeper, stroking along her slit, teasing her entrance. "Yes, baby," she gasped, her hips canting forward, seeking more of his touch. "Always, my darling. I'm always ready for you."

Around them, the room had grown quiet, the other mafia men watching with a mix of envy and trepidation as they witnessed the intimate display. They could see the way Taehyung touched Yn, with a possessiveness and a hunger that bordered on violent. They could hear the way she responded to him, her breathy moans and soft cries a testament to the power he held over her.

One particularly bold mafioso, a man with a scar running down his cheek and a reputation for his ruthless tactics, leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table as he fixed Taehyung with a calculating stare.

"Mr. Kim," he said, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. "Perhaps we should take a break, give you and your... companion a moment to yourselves. It's clear that you have other things on your mind."

Taehyung's head snapped up, his eyes flashing with a sudden, murderous rage. In a flash, he had the man by the throat, his fingers digging into the flesh, his nails biting into the skin. The mafioso gasped, his eyes bulging, his face turning a mottled shade of red.

"I don't take orders from anyone," Taehyung snarled, his voice a low, menacing growl. "Especially not from the likes of you. You think you can speak to me like that, to question my authority in front of my men? In front of my mother?"

The man sputtered and choked, trying desperately to speak, to apologize, but Taehyung paid him no mind. He tightened his grip, his muscles flexing, his arm shaking with the force of his rage.

"Apologize," he demanded, his voice a low, dangerous hiss. "Apologize to me, to your king, to your fucking goddess."

And so the mafioso did, his voice a strangled, garbled mess as he begged for forgiveness, as he groveled and pleaded and promised to never again overstep his bounds.

Taehyung released him with a sudden, brutal jerk, sending the man stumbling back into his chair, gasping and choking and clutching at his throat. Around the room, the other mafia men shifted uncomfortably, their eyes downcast, their faces pale.

But Taehyung was already turning his attention back to Yn, his hand sliding further into her panties, his fingers stroking and teasing and fucking her with a single-minded intensity. He could feel her getting closer, could feel the way her body tensed and tightened around him, her cunt clenching and fluttering as he brought her to the brink of orgasm.

"Come for me, Mumma," he growled, his voice a low, commanding sound. "Come on my fingers like the desperate little whore you are. Let everyone see what a fucking slut you are for your baby boy."

And so Yn did, her body convulsing, her back arching, her head thrown back in ecstasy as she came with a loud, wanton cry. Her juices flooded over Taehyung's hand, dripping down onto the expensive fabric of his joggers, but he paid no mind, too focused on the way her pussy clenched and spasmed around him, milking his fingers, greedy and hungry for more.

As Yn came down from her high, her body going boneless and pliant in the circle of Taehyung's arms, he leaned in close, his lips brushing against her ear as he spoke.

"Such a good girl," Taehyung purred, his voice a low, rumbling sound that vibrated through Yn's chest. "Coming so hard for your baby boy, in front of all these people. You don't care who sees, do you? You just want everyone to know that you belong to me, that this pretty little cunt is mine and mine alone."

Yn could only whimper in response, her body still trembling with the aftershocks of her orgasm, her pussy clenching weakly around Taehyung's fingers. She could feel the sticky wetness of her arousal coating her thighs, could smell the musky scent of her pleasure permeating the air.

"Yours," she gasped, her voice a ragged whisper. "Always yours, my darling. I'm yours in every way that matters."

Taehyung hummed in satisfaction, his fingers slipping out of her panties, coated in her juices. He brought them to his lips, his tongue darting out to lick them clean, his eyes never leaving Yn's face.

"Delicious," he murmured, savoring the taste of her, the essence of her pleasure. "I could eat this sweet little cunt for hours and never get enough."

Around them, the room had grown silent, the other mafia men watching with a mix of awe and trepidation as they witnessed the intimate, almost violent display of affection between mother and son. They had never seen anything like it before, had never imagined that the ruthless, terrifying mafia king could be so... obsessed, so consumed by a single person.

But Yn was no ordinary woman, and Taehyung was no ordinary man. Their bond was something else entirely, a twisted, dark love that bordered on the incestuous and the depraved. And yet, there was a beauty to it, a raw, primal power that demanded respect and admiration.

As the meeting drew to a close, the mafia men filed out of the room, their faces pale and their eyes downcast. They knew better than to linger, knew better than to draw the wrath of their king. Only the scarred mafioso remained, his throat red and raw from Taehyung's brutal grip.

"Mr. Kim," he said, his voice a hoarse, painful whisper. "I apologize for my earlier transgression. It won't happen again."

Taehyung looked at him, his eyes cold and hard and unforgiving. "See that it doesn't," he said, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. "Or next time, I won't be so lenient."

The man nodded, his face a mask of fear and respect. "Yes, Mr. Kim. Thank you for your mercy."

And with that, he too was gone, leaving Taehyung and Yn alone in the room, their bodies still entwined, their hearts beating as one.

"Come, my goddess," Taehyung murmured, his hand sliding up to cup Yn's face, his thumb brushing over her cheekbone with a gentleness that belied his brutal nature. "Let's go to our room. I want to worship you properly, to show you the depths of my love and devotion."

Yn leaned into his touch, her eyes fluttering closed as she savored the feeling of his skin on hers. "Yes, my darling," she whispered, her voice a husky, seductive sound. "Take me to our room. Make love to me like only you can. Claim me, possess me, make me yours in every way possible."

And so, with a dark, hungry grin, Taehyung swept Yn up into his arms, cradling her against his chest as he carried her out of the room and down the long, winding hallway to their private chambers. He kicked open the door, the wood splintering and cracking under the force of his rage, and carried her inside.

There, in the dim, flickering light of the candles that lined the walls, he laid her down on the bed, his body covering hers, his hips nestling between her thighs. He looked down at her, his eyes dark and intense and filled with a love that bordered on madness.

"Mumma," he breathed, his voice a low, reverent sound. "My goddess. My everything. I love you. I love you so fucking much."

And with that, he lowered his head, his lips finding hers in a brutal, hungry kiss that spoke volumes about the depths of his obsession, his love, his all-consuming need for the woman beneath him. He would take her then, would claim her, would make her his in every way possible. And she would welcome it, would crave it, would give herself over to him completely and utterly.

Taehyung took his time with Yn, his touch a slow, deliberate burn that set her nerve endings alight with sensation. He wanted to savor every moment, to draw out the pleasure until it bordered on pain, until she was sobbing and begging and pleading for release.

He started at her neck, his lips and tongue and teeth working over the sensitive skin, sucking and biting and licking until she was a writhing, mewling mess beneath him. He could feel her pulse fluttering wildly against his mouth, could taste the salt of her skin, the sweetness of her arousal.

"Taehyung," she whimpered, her fingers tangling in his hair, her nails raking over his scalp. "Please, baby, please..."

"Shhh, Mumma," he murmured, his voice a low, soothing rumble against her throat. "I've got you. I'm going to take such good care of you, my love. I'm going to make you feel so fucking good."

And with that, he began his slow, sensual assault on her body. He peeled off her dress, his fingers brushing over every inch of exposed skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps and shivers in their wake. He unhooked her bra with a deft flick of his wrist, freeing her breasts to his hungry gaze.

"Fuck, Mumma," he groaned, his voice rough and ragged with desire. "Your tits are perfect. They're fucking perfect."

He cupped them in his hands, his thumbs and fingers kneading and squeezing, rolling and plucking at her nipples until they were hard and aching and begging for more. Yn arched into his touch, a low, keening sound escaping her lips as pleasure overwhelmed her.

Taehyung could feel her getting wetter, could feel the heat of her arousal seeping through the lace of her panties, staining the sheets beneath her. He rubbed against her, the thick, hard length of him grinding against her clothed sex, teasing her, tormenting her.

"Please, baby," Yn whimpered, her hips rolling, seeking, desperate for more friction, more pressure, more anything. "Please, I need... I need..."

"I know, Mumma," Taehyung murmured, his voice a low, seductive purr. "I know what you need. And you're going to get it. All of it. Everything you could ever want or need, I'll give it to you."

He slid a hand into her panties, his fingers stroking along her slit, teasing her entrance, dipping inside just slightly before pulling away. Yn sobbed, her body clenching, her pussy dripping, aching, empty and hollow and desperate to be filled.

Taehyung could feel her desperation, could sense the way her body cried out for him, for his cock, for his possession. But he held back, determined to draw out her pleasure, to make her beg and plead and scream for him before he finally gave her what she needed.

He kissed her then, a messy, filthy, open-mouthed kiss that stole her breath and her sanity. His tongue plundered her mouth, his teeth nipped at her lips, his hands roamed over every inch of her body, squeezing, kneading, claiming.

Yn could only cling to him, her nails digging into his back, her legs wrapping around his waist, holding him close. She could feel the hard, thick length of him pressing against her, hot and insistent and oh so tempting.

"Taehyung," she whimpered against his mouth, her voice a broken, desperate sound. "I need your cock, baby. I need it inside me. Please, please fuck me. Fuck your mumma like the dirty, filthy slut she is."

Taehyung groaned, his hips rolling, grinding, pressing harder against her aching, empty cunt. "Fuck, Mumma," he growled, his voice a low, feral sound. "You want your baby boy's cock so bad, don't you? You want me to split you open on my big, thick dick, to fuck you so hard and so deep that you forget your own name?"

"Yes," Yn sobbed, tears leaking from the corners of her eyes, her body shaking with the force of her need. "Please, baby, please fuck me. Ruin me. Destroy me. Make me yours."

But still, Taehyung held back, his control legendary, his determination to make her beg unshakable. He would have her screaming, would have her crying, would have her completely and utterly at his mercy before he finally gave her what she needed.

Taehyung's obsession with Yn had reached a fever pitch, a dark, twisted love that bordered on the unhinged. He could think of nothing else, could focus on nothing but the need to claim her, to possess her, to make her his in every way possible. He wanted to crawl inside her skin, to live inside her body, to never be parted from her again.

As he ground against her, his cock a hard, throbbing brand against her clothed sex, he could feel the wetness of her arousal seeping through the fabric, could smell the heady, musky scent of her desire. It filled his nostrils, his lungs, his very being, until he was drowning in it, until he could think of nothing else.

"Fuck, Mumma," he snarled, his voice a low, animalistic sound that sent shivers down Yn's spine. "You're fucking drenched. Your cunt is dripping for my cock, isn't it? It's fucking begging to be split open, to be filled and stretched and used like the desperate little cock sleeve it is."

Yn could only whimper in response, her body writhing beneath his, her hips rolling and bucking, seeking more of that delicious friction. "Yes," she gasped, her voice a ragged, desperate sound. "Yes, baby, it's yours. It's all yours. I'm all yours. I'm your dirty little fuck toy, your personal cum dump, your-"

Her words were cut off by a sharp cry as Taehyung ripped her panties off, the flimsy fabric tearing like tissue paper in his hands. He tossed the ruined scrap of lace aside, his eyes dark and wild as he stared down at her naked, glistening sex.

"Fuck," he growled, his voice rough and ragged with desire. "Look at this sloppy cunt. So fucking wet and ready for me. So fucking desperate for its king's cock."

He rubbed the swollen head of his dick against her entrance, teasing her, tormenting her, painting her folds with the bead of precum that leaked from the tip. Yn sobbed, her body shaking, her pussy clenching and fluttering, trying to draw him inside.

"Please, Taehyung," she begged, tears streaming down her face, drool leaking from the corner of her mouth as he kissed her with a bruising, punishing force. "Please put it in. Please fuck your mumma's dirty, filthy cunt. Ruin me, baby. Break me. Make me fucking yours."

Taehyung could feel her desperation, could sense the way her body screamed for him, for his possession. With a roar of pure, unadulterated lust, he slammed inside her, burying himself to the hilt in one brutal, merciless thrust.

"FUCK!" Yn screamed, her back arching off the bed, her nails raking down Taehyung's back, leaving angry red welts in their wake. "FUCK, you're so fucking BIG! You're splitting me open, baby! You're fucking DESTROYING my cunt!"

"Take it, you filthy slut," Taehyung snarled, his hips slamming against hers with brutal force. "Take your baby boy's fucking cock. Fucking take it like the desperate whore you are."

He set a punishing pace, fucking into her with a violence that shook the bed, that rattled the walls, that had the headboard slamming against the wall with each savage thrust. The wet, obscene sound of flesh slapping against flesh filled the room, mingling with their grunts and groans and screams of ecstasy.

"Fuck, Mumma," Taehyung panted, his eyes wild and crazed as he stared down at her. "Your cunt feels so fucking good. It's like a goddamn vice around my cock. I can feel it squeezing me, milking me, fucking BEGGING to be filled with my cum."

"Give it to me," Yn sobbed, her voice a broken, desperate sound. "Give me your fucking cum, baby. Paint my insides white with it. Fucking BREED your mumma like the dirty, filthy breeding bitch she is."

Taehyung could feel his orgasm building, could feel the hot, tight coil of it winding in his gut, threatening to snap at any moment. But he held back, determined to make her come first, to feel her cunt clamping down on him like a silken fist as she screamed his name.

"Come on my fucking cock, Mumma,"

Taehyung could feel Yn's body tensing, her muscles pulling taut as her orgasm crashed over her like a tidal wave. Her cunt clamped down around his pistoning cock, gripping him like a velvet vise as she screamed his name, her voice raw and ragged with pleasure.

"FUCK, TAEHYUNG!" Yn howled, her head thrashing from side to side, her hair a wild, tangled mess around her face. "FUCK, I'M... I'M... AAAHHHHH!"

Her words dissolved into incoherent screams and wails as her climax consumed her, her body shaking and convulsing beneath him. Taehyung could feel her juices gushing around his cock, flooding his lap, his thighs, the sheets beneath them. It was a fucking deluge, a torrent of her pleasure, her release, her absolute fucking ecstasy.

"Fuck yes, scream for me, Mumma," Taehyung roared, his hips never faltering, never slowing their brutal pace. "Scream my fucking name while I ruin this sloppy cunt. Let everyone know who this pussy belongs to. Let them know who's fucking destroying it so goddamn good."

Yn could only sob and keen, her body wracked with sensation, her mind shattered into a million glittering pieces. She could feel each individual inch of Taehyung's cock as it plunged in and out of her, could feel every ridge and vein and throbbing vein of his massive, perfect dick. It was like nothing she had ever felt before, like a pleasure so intense that it bordered on agony.

"MINE," Taehyung snarled, his voice a low, possessive growl. "This fucking cunt is MINE. This whole goddamn body is MINE. You're MINE, Mumma. My fucking goddess, my queen, my everything."

He could feel his own release building, could feel the hot, electric tingle of it racing up his spine. But he held back, held off his own pleasure, determined to wring every last drop of ecstasy from Yn's quivering, shaking body.

"Cum again, you filthy slut," he demanded, his voice a low, commanding bark. "Cum on my fucking cock again. Milk my fucking dick with this greedy, hungry cunt. FUCKING DRENCH ME."

And so Yn did, her body seizing up, her back arching, her head thrown back as she came with a scream that shook the very foundations of the room. Her juices flooded out of her, splattering against Taehyung's lap, his thighs, the bed, the walls. It was a fucking flood, a deluge of her pleasure, her love, her all-consuming devotion to the man who owned her, body and soul.

Taehyung could feel her cunt rippling around him, could feel the way it squeezed and milked and begged for his release. With a roar of pure, animalistic triumph, he slammed into her one last time, burying himself to the fucking hilt as his cock jerked and throbbed and finally, finally fucking exploded.

"FUCK, MUMMA!" Taehyung bellowed, his voice a thunderous, earth-shattering sound. "FUCK, I'M... I'M... FUCKING... BREEDING... YOU... AAAARRRRGGHHHH!"

Yn could feel the hot, thick spurts of his cum painting her insides, could feel the way it flooded her, filled her, claimed her. It was a fucking deluge, a tidal wave of his seed, his essence, his fucking love. She could feel it sloshing around inside her, could feel the way it plugged her up, sealed her tight, marked her as his.

"YES, BABY," Yn wailed, her voice a broken, desperate sound. "YES, FILL ME. FILL YOUR MUMMA'S CUNT WITH YOUR HOT, THICK, PERFECT CUM. FUCKING BREED ME, TAEHYUNG. MAKE ME FUCKING YOURS."

They collapsed together, a tangle of sweat-slicked limbs and heaving chests, their hearts pounding in tandem, their souls intertwined. Taehyung gathered Yn up into his arms, cradling her against his chest, his hands roaming possessively over every inch of her body.

"Mine," he murmured, his voice a low, sated rumble. "My goddess. My queen. My everything. I fucking love you, Mumma.

As they lay there, basking in the afterglow of their intense, passionate lovemaking, Taehyung and Yn found themselves stealing soft, sweet kisses and gentle caresses. The dark, obsessive hunger that had consumed them moments before began to ebb, replaced by a warm, tender affection that filled the room with a soft, rosy light.

Taehyung brushed a stray lock of hair from Yn's face, his fingers lingering on her cheek, tracing the delicate curve of her jaw. "I love you," he whispered, his voice a soft, reverent murmur. "I love you so fucking much, Mumma. More than anything in this world or the next."

Yn smiled up at him, her eyes shining with unshed tears of happiness and love. "I love you too, my darling boy," she whispered back, her voice thick with emotion. "You're my everything, Taehyung. My heart, my soul, my reason for living."

They cuddled close, their limbs entwined, their hearts beating in sync. Taehyung nuzzled into the crook of Yn's neck, inhaling the sweet, familiar scent of her skin, the scent that always reminded him of home, of safety, of love.

"Remember when we used to have picnics in the park when I was 18?" (He is 24 rn guys) Taehyung asked suddenly, a wistful note in his voice. "You'd pack all my favorite foods, and we'd spread out a big blanket under the big oak tree by the pond. We'd stay there for hours, just talking and laughing and watching the ducks."

Yn's face softened into a warm, nostalgic smile. "Of course I remember," she murmured, her fingers playing idly with the hair at the nape of Taehyung's neck. "Those were some of the happiest times of my life, baby. Just you and me, our little family, enjoying each other's company and the beauty of the world around us."

"I miss those days," Taehyung confessed, his voice a soft, almost melancholy sound. "I miss being a little kid, miss feeling so safe and loved and protected in your arms."

"Oh, my sweet boy," Yn cooed, cupping his face in her hands, her thumbs brushing over his cheekbones. "You'll always be my little boy, no matter how big and strong and powerful you become. You'll always be the most precious thing in the world to me."

Taehyung leaned into her touch, his eyes fluttering closed as he savored the feeling of his mother's gentle caress. "I want to make you happy, Mumma," he said, his voice a fervent, heartfelt vow. "I want to give you everything you've ever wanted and more. I want to love you like you deserve to be loved, like the goddess you are."

"You already do, darling," Yn assured him, her voice a soft, loving murmur. "With every breath, with every beat of your heart, you show me the depth of your love. I am happier than I have ever been, happier than I ever thought I could be. I am happier because of you, because of the incredible man you've become."

They shared a soft, sweet kiss then, a kiss that spoke volumes about the love and devotion they shared. It was a kiss that promised a future together, a lifetime of happiness and love and laughter and joy.

As they drifted off to sleep in each other's arms, their hearts full and their souls at peace, they knew that no matter what challenges or obstacles lay ahead, they would face them together. United as one, bound by a love that would never die, a love that would only grow stronger and more powerful with each passing day.

And so, in the quiet, peaceful moments between the intense, passionate lovemaking and the dark, obsessive possession, Taehyung and Yn found a soft, gentle beauty in their relationship. A beauty that spoke of a love that was pure and true and eternal, a love that would last for all of their days and beyond.

They were, and always would be, each other's everything. And that was the greatest gift, the greatest blessing, the greatest treasure of all.

...♡THE END ♡...

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