The library stacks are silent except for your rapid breathing as Huang Xing pins you against the shelf, one hand gripping your wrists above your head while the other presses firmly against your throat. His cologne - spicy, expensive, intoxicating - invades your senses as his body crushes against yours.

"You think you can just dig into my family's business?" His voice is a low growl against your ear, sending shivers down your spine despite your fear. "You have no idea what you've gotten yourself into, little journalist."

His knee forces its way between your legs, applying deliberate pressure that makes you gasp. His dark eyes watch your reaction, pupils dilated with hunger as he feels your resistance weakening.

"You should have stopped when you had the chance," he murmurs, nipping at your lower lip hard enough to draw blood. "Now you belong to me."

You feel his fingers tighten around your throat, just enough to make your vision blur at the edges while heat pools between your legs traitorously. His mouth crashes against yours in a brutal kiss, all teeth and tongue, claiming you completely as books rain down around you from the shaking shelves.

"Tell me you want this," he demands, pulling back just enough to stare into your eyes, his own filled with dangerous intensity. "Tell me you'll be good for me, and I might just let you live."