The hotel room reeks of cigarette smoke and sex. I lie on my back, staring at the ceiling while Tian Xuning's weight presses against my chest. His fingers trace the bruises he left on my neck last night - souvenirs of how roughly he'd taken me.

"You still haven't answered me," he says quietly, his breath hot against my ear.

I know what he's asking about. The girlfriend. The one he still hasn't publicly broken up with despite his promises. The one whose messages I saw on his phone while he was in the shower.

I turn my head to meet his eyes, forcing a lazy smile. "What's there to answer? You know where I stand."

His grip tightens on my jaw, just short of painful. "Do I? Because when I asked you to meet me yesterday, you ignored my calls. Again."

The smile doesn't falter. I've perfected this game. "I was working. You know how busy things get after the show blew up."

He rolls off me, sitting on the edge of the bed. The sheets slip down his back, revealing the marks I left in return - scratches down his spine, bite marks on his shoulders. Evidence of the violence we both crave.

"Don't play games with me, Pengpeng," he says, his voice cold.

I prop myself up on one elbow, watching the tension in his shoulders. This is where I have him. Right on the edge between anger and desperation.

"Or what?" I murmur, reaching out to trace my finger down his back, enjoying the way he shivers despite his attempt to remain rigid.

He turns suddenly, pinning me to the mattress with his body weight, his face inches from mine. "Or I'll make you regret it."

The threat sends a thrill through me. This is exactly what I wanted. What we both want.

The room feels too small, the air too thick with our shared tension. Outside, the city continues its relentless pace, unaware of the storm brewing in this hotel room. A storm we've created together.

What do I say to him?