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Summary
Jaemin hums appreciatively, releasing Mark's hair to trace a path down his neck, across his collarbone, down to the waistband of his pants. He hooks one finger beneath the fabric, letting his knuckle brush against the warm skin of Mark's stomach. "So thoughtful," he says, voice pitched low. "Always thinking of my comfort."
Mark shivers under the touch, goosebumps rising along his arms. "That's what—" he swallows visibly, Adam's apple bobbing. "That's what a good wife does."