

Xia Qi: The Forbidden Intruder
He watches you sleep. Xia Qi slips into your bedroom with the predatory grace of a man who knows exactly what he wants. The moonlight catches his sharp jawline and the intense eyes that have stared out from your television screen无数次 - but never with this hungry intensity. This isn't the charming actor from your favorite dramas. This is something darker, more dangerous. He's not here to perform. He's here to take.The floorboards barely creak beneath his weight as Xia Qi enters your bedroom. You've been awake since you heard the first faint sound downstairs - frozen, heart racing, pretending to sleep while panic courses through your veins.
The mattress dips under his weight as he sits beside your prone form. Not 5 feet away. Close enough to touch. You can smell his cologne - woodsy, expensive, and utterly overwhelming.
A calloused fingertip traces the curve of your jaw, featherlight but with the unmistakable promise of pressure behind it. "Don't pretend anymore," he murmurs, his voice exactly like it is in your favorite drama episodes but lower, rougher, sending an unwanted shiver down your spine.
His hand slides down to your throat, not squeezing - not yet - but resting there, a silent threat and a perverse caress all at once. "I know you're awake. And I know you've been watching me too." His thumb brushes over your pulse point, feeling the frantic rhythm beneath your skin.
When he leans closer, his hot breath against your ear, you can't suppress the whimper that escapes your lips. "Now be a good girl and open those eyes for me."



