MY ACCIDENTAL HUSBAND | JAY
OR... In Which Your Accidental Husband finally broke free from his self-restraints and can't seem to keep his hands off you.
PAIRING : Park Jay x Fem! Reader (OC)
GENRE : Smut, Romance, Married Couple AU, Contract Marriage, Sexual Tension, Comedy, Domestic Intimacy, Mutual Pining
WARNINGS : 18+, explicit sexual content, heavy make out sessions, tension-filled intimacy, possessiveness, kissing, suggestive language, husband-wife dynamics, teasing, loss of self-restraint, emotional vulnerability, implied overstimulation, soft dom!Jay, affectionate banter, lots of touching and unresolved feelings finally exploding.
A/n : Hello Lovelies ~ This is just a Drabble and the orginal Book ver. is Posted on Wattpad. I will leave the link down Below. 👇🏻🔗
[My Accidental Husband - Jay Park | Read Here]
Sia was walking past by her and Jay's shared bedroom when she was yanked inside the dimly lit room and the door shut behind her and she was pinned against the bookshelf by none other than her husband Jay who had his hands gripping on each side of her bare waist. He took her in, she was clad in a beautiful Saree. He was standing close to her, barely any space between them. Sia was flustered. "W-what are you doing ?"
Jay smirked and nuzzled his face into the crook of her neck, nipping teasingly. "Nothing just was a tad bit needy for my wife's attention so I had to resort to this way."
"Jay! I was busy preparing for Diwali. What's with you—ngh.." Jay gave a love bite to her, behind her ear and placed a kiss afterwords, smiling. There relationship wasn't even that of a normal loving married couple. An accidental marriage due to alcohol was all to it then what is these moments and feelings? It all feels so natural. Jay's nose traced up to her jaw to her cheeks before placing a sweet kiss on her cheek. Then he kissed her. The tension was palpable between them.
Sia's mind was a whirlwind of confusion and a dizzying, unwanted pleasure. The scent of Jay's cologne, something woody and dark, filled her senses, mingling with the faint, sweet smell of the marigolds she'd been stringing for the Diwali decorations. His body was a furnace against hers, the hard planes of his chest pressing into the soft curves of her breasts, which were barely contained by the silk blouse of her saree. The bookshelf dug into her back, a sharp reminder of the reality of the situation, but it was a reality that was quickly dissolving into a haze of sensation.
The question of why was a distant echo in her head. Why was he doing this? Why was her body responding with such traitorous heat, her core clenching with an ache she hadn't allowed herself to acknowledge? This man was her husband by a technicality, a mistake fueled by tequila and a Vegas chapel. They lived together, they tolerated each other, they navigated the awkwardness of their shared life. But this... this was something else entirely. This was raw and possessive, and it felt terrifyingly right.
His kiss deepened, no longer sweet and questioning but demanding and sure. His tongue swept against the seam of her lips, and she parted them on a gasp, giving him the access he so confidently took. He tasted of mint and something uniquely him. One of his hands left the bookshelf, sliding down the curve of her waist, his fingers tracing the delicate gold chain that sat on her hip, holding the pleats of her saree. He found the soft, exposed skin of her midriff, his thumb stroking circles there that made her stomach flutter and her knees weak.
Jay broke the kiss, his breathing ragged as he rested his forehead against hers. His eyes, usually so guarded and sarcastic, were now dark with a hunger that mirrored the one stirring deep within her. "You drive me insane, Sia," he growled, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through her entire body. "Walking around looking like this, smelling like this... pretending you don't see the way I look at you."
Before she could form a coherent thought, let alone a reply, his hands moved with a purpose that stole her breath. He found the pin securing her pallu, the draped end of her saree, and with a flick of his wrist, it was undone. The sheer, embroidered fabric cascaded down her body, pooling at her feet in a whisper of silk. The cool air of the room hit her exposed skin, pebbling her nipples beneath the thin, tight-fitting choli. Her instinct was to cover herself, to hide, but his gaze held her captive. He looked at her not with judgment, but with pure, unadulterated reverence and lust.
"Jay," she breathed, his name a plea and a prayer all at once.
He answered by hooking his fingers into the neckline of her blouse and pulling. The delicate hooks gave way easily, and he tugged the garment down her arms, freeing her breasts to his hungry eyes. He groaned, a low, guttural sound of approval, before his head descended. He took one peaked nipple into his mouth, his tongue swirling around the sensitive bud before he sucked hard, sending a jolt of electricity straight to her clit. Sia arched her back, a cry escaping her lips as she threaded her fingers through his hair, holding him to her.
His other hand wasn't idle. It slid down her stomach, deftly undoing the knot of her petticoat. The soft cotton joined her saree on the floor, leaving her completely bare before him. He lifted his head from her breast, his gaze intense as he took in the sight of her. "So fucking beautiful," he murmured, more to himself than to her.
He scooped her up effortlessly, her legs wrapping around his waist instinctively as he carried her the few feet to the bed. He laid her down on the mattress, his body covering hers immediately, his weight a welcome anchor in the storm of her emotions. He shed his own clothes with impatient haste, his shirt and pants discarded in a heap on the floor. When his naked skin pressed against hers, Sia felt like she was coming home. It was a feeling so profound it scared her.
He kissed her again, a deep, drugging kiss as his hands roamed her body, learning every curve and dip. He traced the line of her spine, the swell of her hips, the soft skin of her inner thighs. His touch was both a brand and a benediction. When his fingers finally slid between her legs, she was embarrassingly, gloriously wet. He found her clit, already swollen and sensitive, and began to circle it with a maddeningly slow rhythm.
"Please," she whimpered, bucking her hips against his hand, desperate for more friction, for more of him.
"Please what, Sia?" he asked, his voice a dark tease against her ear. "Tell me what you want."
"I want... I want you," she gasped, the admission tearing from her throat. "Inside me. Now."
That was all the encouragement he needed. He positioned himself at her entrance, the thick head of his cock teasing her slick folds. He looked down at her, his eyes searching hers for any sign of hesitation. He found none. With one smooth, powerful thrust, he buried himself inside her to the hilt.
They both cried out at the sudden, intense pleasure. He filled her completely, stretching her in a way that was both overwhelming and perfect. He stayed still for a moment, letting her adjust, his face buried in the crook of her neck. Then, he began to move.
His strokes were deep and deliberate, pulling out almost completely before slamming back into her. The bed creaked in rhythm with their movements, the only sound in the room besides their ragged breaths and the slap of skin against skin. Sia met him thrust for thrust, her nails digging into his broad shoulders as the coil of pleasure in her belly tightened to an almost painful degree.
"Look at me," he commanded, his voice rough with passion.
She forced her eyes open, meeting his gaze. The intensity she saw there was her undoing. He wasn't just fucking her; he was claiming her, possessing her, body and soul. He reached between them, his thumb finding her clit again, rubbing it in time with his thrusts.
That was it. The coil snapped. Her orgasm ripped through her with the force of a tidal wave, a blinding, all-consuming pleasure that had her screaming his name. Her inner walls clenched around him, milking his cock, and with a hoarse shout, he followed her over the edge, his hot release flooding her.
He collapsed on top of her, his body trembling with the force of his release. For a long time, they just lay there, their hearts pounding in a frantic, synchronized rhythm. The air was thick with the scent of sex and sweat and something new, something fragile.
Eventually, Jay rolled off her, pulling her into his arms and tucking her head under his chin. He stroked her hair, his touch now infinitely gentle. The man who had just fucked her with wild abandon was now holding her with a tenderness that brought tears to her eyes.
The accidental marriage, the awkwardness, the distance—it all felt like a lifetime ago. In its place was this. This raw, undeniable connection that had just been explosively consummated. Sia didn't know what tomorrow would bring, if this would change anything or if they would just go back to their careful dance of avoidance. But lying there in his arms, sated and safe for the first time since she could remember, she found she didn't care. All that mattered was this moment, and the terrifying, thrilling possibility that maybe, just maybe, their mistake was actually their destiny.
Weeks had passed since that explosive afternoon in their bedroom. The unspoken tension between Sia and Jay had shifted, coalescing into a charged, fragile new normal. They weren't a couple in the traditional sense, but they were no longer just roommates. There were lingering touches in the hallway, heated glances across the dinner table, and nights where the space between them in bed seemed to shrink by inches until it disappeared altogether.
Tonight, they were at a rooftop gala for one of Jay's architectural firm's clients. The city of Mumbai glittered below them, a sea of lights stretching to the horizon. Sia felt the city's pulse, a rhythm that seemed to match the thrumming in her own blood. She'd chosen a deep emerald gown that clung to her curves, a stark contrast to the traditional sarees she usually wore. Jay had done a double-take when he'd seen her, his jaw tightening almost imperceptibly.
Now, they stood near the balcony's edge, a flute of champagne in each of their hands. The cool night air was a welcome relief against her heated skin.
"You're quiet," Jay murmured, his voice low enough to be a private conversation amidst the party's chatter. He stood just behind her, his hand resting possessively on the small of her back, a brand of heat through the thin silk of her dress.
"Just taking it all in," she replied, not turning around. "It's beautiful."
"It is," he said, but his gaze was on the side of her neck, not the cityscape. He leaned closer, his lips brushing against her ear. "But not as beautiful as you."
A shiver traced a path down her spine. She turned her head to give him a wry look. "Flattery, Mr. Park ? Is that your architectural secret?"
He chuckled, a dark, warm sound. "Only for you, Mrs. Park." The title, once a source of awkwardness, now sent a jolt of possessive pride through her.
He set his glass down on a nearby table and took hers from her hand, placing it beside his. "Come with me," he said, his voice leaving no room for argument. He took her hand, his fingers lacing with hers, and led her away from the crowd, past the string quartet, and towards a dark, secluded corner of the rooftop where the service elevator was located. It was an alcove, hidden from view by a large potted fern.
"Jay, what are we doing?" she asked, a thrill of danger and excitement coursing through her.
"Something I've wanted to do all night," he replied, backing her against the cool, textured wall. He caged her in with his body, placing one hand on the wall beside her head. The ambient light from the party caught the sharp line of his jaw, the dangerous glint in his eyes. "You have no idea what you do to me in that dress."
Before she could respond, his mouth was on hers. This wasn't a slow, gentle kiss. It was a hungry, desperate claiming. His lips were firm and demanding, his tongue sweeping into her mouth to tangle with hers in a dance of pure, unadulterated need. One of his hands slid from the wall to her waist, gripping her hip and pulling her flush against him. She could feel the hard, thick ridge of his erection pressing insistently against her belly through the fabric of their clothes, and a soft moan escaped her throat.
He swallowed the sound, his kiss deepening, growing more frantic. His other hand moved up, tangling in the hair at the nape of her neck, holding her captive as he devoured her. Sia's hands roamed over his back, feeling the taut muscles beneath the expensive fabric of his tuxedo jacket. She fisted the material, pulling him closer, needing more.
Jay's mouth left hers, trailing a path of fire down her jaw to the sensitive skin of her throat. He nipped and sucked at her pulse point, not hard enough to leave a mark that couldn't be hidden, but enough to make her head fall back against the wall with a thud. "Jay," she gasped, her voice breathy. "Someone could see..."
"Let them," he growled against her skin, his hand leaving her hip to slide around to her back. He found the zipper of her dress and, with agonizing slowness, pulled it down. The sound of the teeth parting was loud in the quiet alcove. The cool air hit her exposed back, and she shivered. His warm, calloused hand traced the line of her spine, his touch electric.
He kissed his way back up to her mouth, his hand moving around her ribcage, his thumb stroking the underside of her breast through the delicate lace of her bra. Her nipples pebbled into tight, aching points, desperate for his touch. He seemed to know, to understand her body's silent pleas. His thumb brushed over one straining peak, and she whimpered into his mouth, her hips bucking involuntarily against his.
"Fuck, Sia," he groaned, breaking the kiss to rest his forehead against hers. His breathing was heavy, his eyes black with lust. "I want to take you right here, against this wall."
His words were crude, but they were exactly what she needed to hear. The thought of it, of being taken by him in this semi-public place, with the sound of the party just feet away, was intoxicating. She reached down between them, her fingers brushing against the straining button of his trousers. She palmed his hard cock through the fabric, and he hissed, his hips jerking forward into her touch.
She was about to undo his belt, to give him the permission he was silently asking for, when a burst of laughter from a passing waiter broke the spell. They both froze, the reality of their location crashing down on them.
Jay cursed under his breath, a sound of pure frustration. He rested his forehead against the wall beside her head, his body still pressed tightly against hers. After a moment, he pushed himself away, running a hand through his already disheveled hair. He quickly zipped up her dress, his fingers fumbling slightly.
He straightened his own jacket, his eyes meeting hers in the dim light. The fire was still there, banked but not extinguished. "Later," he promised, his voice a low, husky rumble that was more of a threat than a promise. "When I get you home, I'm going to fuck you so hard you won't remember your own name."
He held out his hand to her, and Sia took it, her legs feeling like jelly. He led her back to the party, a perfect picture of a composed gentleman. But his grip on her hand was tight, a silent, possessive claim that told her the night was far from over. And as he brought her knuckles to his lips for a soft, almost innocent kiss, Sia knew with absolute certainty that the rooftop was just the appetizer. The main course was yet to come.
