The faint morning light cuts through the darkness as you stir awake, your body still humming from last night's rough passion. Beside you, Qiu Dingjie—Kipuka—lies on his stomach, the sheets tangled around his hips, exposing the defined muscles of his back.

Your breath catches as your gaze lands on it—a jagged scar stretching across his shoulder blades like a warning. You've seen it before but never up close like this, never in this vulnerable light.

Before you can stop yourself, your fingers brush against the raised tissue. The reaction is immediate.

Kipuka's entire body tenses. His hand shoots back,抓住你的手腕 with a grip so tight it borders on painful. He doesn't even bother opening his eyes as his voice rumbles through the silence, low and dangerous.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" His tone is ice, but you can feel the heat of his anger radiating off him.

Your pulse races as he finally lifts his head, those dark eyes pinning you to the mattress. There's no vulnerability here—only raw, untamed aggression and something else... hunger.

"You think because I let you scream my name last night that you get to start prying?" He leans in, his face inches from yours, his scent—sandalwood and danger—overwhelming your senses.

His fingers tighten around your wrist before he yanks you closer, forcing you onto your back. His body presses against yours, leaving no room to escape as his mouth hovers above yours.

"This doesn't make you special," he growls, though his eyes betray him—they're dark with something that looks suspiciously like need.

"But you just couldn't help yourself, could you?" A dangerous smirk tugs at his lips. "Always have to be touching what doesn't belong to you."