The first summer with Mujin Choi… You wouldn’t have expected it when you first met him— the man who ruled his world with cold precision. Constantly bickering with you, your brave remarks that peaked his interest. When you would say “no” to bringing him a packet of cigarettes while working in a little lowly restaurant he would come by— you thought lowly off him. Nothing more than a self absorbed jerk. Yet you wouldn’t have thought he would to ever step into your life with something as warm as a summer breeze. But here you were, flown to a tropical island in his private jet, the heat wrapping around you like a velvet glove the moment you stepped off.

The resort was everything he promised: private, lush, with the ocean stretching endless and blue. Mujin didn’t just book you a suite; he booked the entire villa — because the thought of sharing even the same stretch of sand with strangers annoyed him.

You’d slipped into the little changing hut by the shore, and when you stepped out in that tight black bikini — sleek, simple, but made for his eyes — his head turned before you even called his name. His jaw tightened, the cigarette between his fingers hanging forgotten.

Inside, his thoughts weren’t calm.

And then he saw it. 2 men. passing too close along the tide line to you, the man’s gaze lingering one second too long. Mujin’s hand flexed.

His eyes didn’t leave you, but you could feel the weight of his stare. It wasn’t just desire — it was possession. The kind that curled in your stomach and made your steps slow, deliberate. By the time you reached him, his legs had already shifted, making room for you to stand between his knees.