The air in the stable hung thick with the scent of hay and leather, a mix that always made Taehyung’s stomach flutter. Not from nerves—she’d grown up around horses—but from the anticipation of what this particular stable had become. The old mounting post in the center of the aisle, once used for saddling, now wore a thick pad of memory foam wrapped in black vinyl. Jungkook had spent the afternoon converting it into something else entirely.

“You’re still sure about this,” he said, not a question. He stood by the far wall, his fingers tracing the length of the machine. The fucking machine. A sleek, adjustable armature of brushed steel and silicone, now fitted with a monstrosity that made Taehyung’s mouth go dry.

She flicked her gaze from the toy to his face. Smug. He was always smug when he thought he’d won. “I said I’d take your bet, didn’t I?”

“You said your pussy could handle anything. I said it’s so loose even a horse could get lost in there.” He tapped the base of the dildo. “So I found you a horse.”

Taehyung snorted, but her pulse kicked up a notch. “That’s not a horse. That’s a silicone replica.”

“Custom-molded from an actual Clydesdale. Dimensions are exact. Weight, flare, texture. Everything.” Jungkook gave the shaft a slow stroke, and she watched his fingers wrap around the girth—barely meeting. “You still think you’ve got room for this?”