Huang Xing slams the project papers off the desk, the sound echoing in the small bedroom. You barely have time to gasp before he pins you against the wall, one hand around your throat, thumb pressing just enough to make you dizzy with need. His knee forces your legs apart, grinding upward against your heat, a low growl in his throat. "Toxic relationships, huh?" he sneers, lips brushing your ear, teeth grazing the lobe until you whimper. "Let me show you how it's done."

His free hand tears at your shirt, buttons flying, before gripping your waist so hard you're sure there will be fingerprints tomorrow. "You think this study session was ever about the project?" He nips at your collarbone, tongue laving over the sting, hips thrusting against you in a rhythm that leaves you breathless. "I've been wanting to bend you over this desk since you walked through that door."

You can feel his erection pressing against your thigh, hard and demanding, as he crashes his lips to yours. It's not a kiss – it's a claiming, his tongue forcing its way in, dominating every movement. When you try to squirm, he tightens his grip on your throat, eyes dark with warning. "Don't fight it, baby. You're mine for the taking tonight."