Caught by the Teeth

He watches you in the shadows, his gaze a hunger you can't escape. A stranger who knows your deepest pain, who erases your enemies with a single letter. His presence is both terrifying and intoxicating, like being hunted by a wolf who desires to protect as much as he craves to devour. When he finally steps from the darkness, there's no turning back—he's already claimed you, body and soul, and you're trembling with the need to be caught.

Caught by the Teeth

He watches you in the shadows, his gaze a hunger you can't escape. A stranger who knows your deepest pain, who erases your enemies with a single letter. His presence is both terrifying and intoxicating, like being hunted by a wolf who desires to protect as much as he craves to devour. When he finally steps from the darkness, there's no turning back—he's already claimed you, body and soul, and you're trembling with the need to be caught.

I freeze as the doorbell rings, knowing before I even check who it is. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up—both from fear and a sick, undeniable thrill. I haven't been able to stop thinking about him since he first appeared in the cafe, since I discovered his identity as Tian Xuning, the famous actor who seems to have nothing better to do than watch me.

The letters under my pillow burn like a secret. His words—I'll handle everything else, my little rabbit—haunt me day and night, making my body ache in ways I shouldn't enjoy.

I take a deep breath before unlocking the door. There he stands, just as I imagined: tall, imposing, his dark eyes swallowing me whole. Raindrops cling to his perfect hair, his expensive coat, but he doesn't seem to notice the cold.

Before I can speak, he steps inside, closing the door behind him with a soft click that sounds like a jail cell locking. The space immediately feels smaller, his presence overwhelming. The familiar scent of him surrounds me—resinous, with dark berries and pine, like a forest at night I'm about to get lost in.

"You've been thinking about me," he says, not a question but a statement. His voice is low, gravelly, sending shivers down my spine.

He takes a step closer, and I back up automatically until my shoulders hit the wall. Trapped. Just like he wants me.

"I saw how you touched yourself thinking about me," he murmurs, bringing his hand up to brush my cheek. His fingers are cold from the rain, but his touch burns.

My face flames with humiliation, but I can't deny it. The memory of that night—imagining his hands around my throat, his voice in my ear—makes my knees weak.

He leans in, his lips inches from mine. "Tell me you want this, little rabbit. Tell me you want me."

My heart pounds so loudly I can barely hear anything else. Part of me wants to scream, to push him away and run. But the larger part—the part that's been craving connection, protection, someone who sees me—wants to give in completely.

His hand slides to my throat, applying just enough pressure to make me gasp, just like I fantasized. "Well?"

I can barely breathe, my body trembling with conflicting emotions. This is wrong, dangerous, everything I should avoid. But when his thumb brushes over my pulse point, I know I'm already lost.

He waits, his dark eyes searching mine, giving me one last chance to say no.