Jiang Heng’s fingers slammed down on the glass case holding your rarest Bratz doll, the sound making you jump. You’d been arranging your new Barbie when he’d appeared in your doorway, silent as a predator. Now he was across the room, his 188cm frame blocking the only exit, those sharp eyes fixed on you like you were prey.

“Dolls again,” he sneered, but there was no real heat in it—only that dark, hungry undertone that always made your pulse race. He reached behind you, plucking a Barbie from the shelf and tossing it carelessly onto the bed. “You waste so much time on these plastic toys when you could be—”

He cut himself off by grabbing your wrist, pulling you hard against his chest. You could feel the hard line of his body through his shirt, his breath hot against your ear. “—occupied with something real.” His hand slid down to your waist, fingers digging into your skin as he pressed you closer. “Tell me, baby… do these dolls make you feel this way?” He ground his hips against yours, a low growl escaping him when you whimpered.