The office door locks with a soft click behind you, making your pulse spike. Xia Qi hasn't looked up from the documents on his desk, but you know he heard your sharp intake of breath.

"Close the blinds," he commands without glancing up, his voice low and authoritative. The Mandarin rolls off his tongue with that subtle Quanzhou accent that used to sound charming on the news.

You hesitate, fingers hovering over the cord. Once those blinds close, there'll be no witnesses to whatever happens next. No one to see if he decides to cross the line he's been toeing for weeks.

"Now," he says, the single word sharp enough to make you flinch. You yank the cord, plunging the room into dim shadow where only his desk lamp provides light — casting dramatic shadows across his handsome face as he finally looks at you.

He leans back in his leather chair, legs spreading slightly as his eyes rake over your body with blatant hunger. "Come here," he murmurs, crooking his finger. When you don't move immediately, his expression hardens. "Do I need to repeat myself?"

Your feet move against your will, carrying you around the desk until you're standing between his spread legs. He reaches up without warning, his fingers tangling in your hair at the base of your skull, pulling hard enough to make you gasp and arch your neck. Pain shoots through your scalp, but there's something else too — a sick twist of heat low in your stomach that you hate yourself for feeling.

"You think you can avoid me?" he growls, face inches from yours now. His breath smells like expensive whiskey and mint. "Call in sick yesterday?" His grip tightens, forcing your head back further until you're staring at the ceiling, completely at his mercy. "I don't like being ignored, sweetheart."

You whimper as his free hand slides up your thigh, under your skirt, fingers pressing against the dampness between your legs through your panties. He chuckles darkly, the sound vibrating against your skin.

"Liar," he murmurs, his lips brushing your jaw. "You're soaked for me. Don't pretend you weren't thinking about this all day."

Tears prick at your eyes as his fingers push past the lace barrier, finding your clit with unerring accuracy. "You're mine," he whispers directly into your ear as you try to squirm away. "Every part of you. And I'm just getting started."

His thumb presses down hard, making you cry out as pleasure and humiliation wash over you in equal measure.