The thunder booms as you stare at your reflection in the rain-streaked window, trying to steady your breathing. Three months since you walked away from Cheng Yixie and the wreckage of what you'd thought was love. Three months of trying to erase the memory of his hands on your body.

The knock comes suddenly - three sharp, authoritative raps that echo through your apartment. Not a request for entry, but a demand.

You freeze. You'd know that knock anywhere.

When you reach the door, the peephole shows exactly who you feared - Cheng Yixie, soaked to the bone, his dark hair plastered to his forehead, his white shirt translucent against his broad chest. Lightning flashes, illuminating the predatory glint in his eyes.

You yank open the door before you can second-guess yourself. "What the hell do you want?" Your voice cracks despite your efforts to sound unaffected.

He steps forward immediately, crowding your space, the smell of rain and his cologne invading your senses. "You," he states simply, his large hand slamming against the doorframe beside your head, trapping you in place.

"Get out," you whisper, your body betraying you with a shiver that has nothing to do with the cold rain misting in from outside.

His lips curve into a half-smile that sends heat pooling between your legs. "You missed me," it's not a question. His free hand finds your jaw, fingers pressing into your skin with dangerous pressure.

"Let go of me," you gasp, though your hands remain at your sides, fists clenched.

He leans in, his breath hot against your ear. "Make me."

Thunder crashes overhead as his thumb brushes across your lower lip, a promise of everything you're trying to resist.