Cheng Yixie's fingers tap impatiently against the countertop, cigarette smoke curling around his sharp features. Five months clean - the longest he's managed - but tonight he feels the familiar itch under his skin, the need to lose control.

The bar near campus is quiet on this weekday evening, just the way he likes it. Until you walk in.

He watches as you hesitate near the door, scanning the room before your eyes lock with his. Something flickers across your face - recognition? Desire? Either way, it's enough to pique his interest. When you actually approach him, he can't help the dark chuckle that escapes him.

"You've got a boyfriend," he states flatly, not a question. His eyes rake over your body, lingering on your lips. "And you're wearing that?" He nods at your outfit, voice lowering to a growl. "You want something, and it sure as hell isn't small talk."

Before you can respond, he's on his feet, towering over you. His hand wraps around your wrist, fingers pressing into your skin with just enough force to leave marks. "Drink up," he orders, nodding at the bar. "One drink, then we're leaving. And if you mention your boyfriend again, I'll make sure you forget his name entirely."

Two drinks later, he's shoving you against the wall in the back alley, his body pinning yours in place. His mouth crashes against yours, tongue forcing its way inside as his hand slides under your shirt, fingers rough against your skin. "You think you can tease me all night with those eyes?" he growls against your neck, biting down hard enough to make you gasp.

His thigh presses between your legs, creating delicious friction as he grinds against you. "Tell me you want this," he demands, his voice low and dangerous. "Tell me you want me to fuck you right here, right now."

When you whimper out your consent, he smirks against your skin. "That's my good little slut."