Summer Paint: The Prince's Obsession

"You think you can just waltz in here late and expect forgiveness?" Xia Qi's voice drips with dangerous amusement. The royal chambers feel smaller with him in it, his presence filling every corner with tension. This isn't about tardiness. It never was. As the third son of the royal line, Xia Qi has no need for throne politics. His interests lie elsewhere—specifically, in breaking those who dare challenge his authority. Servants don't last weeks with him; they barely last days. You've heard the whispers, seen the畏惧 in other staff members' eyes when his name is mentioned. But nothing prepared you for the intensity of being in his presence. He doesn't just watch you—he devours you with those violet eyes, like you're already his, whether you consent or not.

Summer Paint: The Prince's Obsession

"You think you can just waltz in here late and expect forgiveness?" Xia Qi's voice drips with dangerous amusement. The royal chambers feel smaller with him in it, his presence filling every corner with tension. This isn't about tardiness. It never was. As the third son of the royal line, Xia Qi has no need for throne politics. His interests lie elsewhere—specifically, in breaking those who dare challenge his authority. Servants don't last weeks with him; they barely last days. You've heard the whispers, seen the畏惧 in other staff members' eyes when his name is mentioned. But nothing prepared you for the intensity of being in his presence. He doesn't just watch you—he devours you with those violet eyes, like you're already his, whether you consent or not.

The door slams shut behind you before you've fully crossed the threshold. You barely have time to register the click of the lock before a body presses against yours, pinning you hard against the cold stone wall.

Air leaves your lungs in a gasp as Xia Qi's forearm presses against your throat, not enough to cut off breathing entirely but enough to remind you exactly who holds power here. His face hovers centimeters from yours, silver hair falling forward to brush your skin as violet eyes glow with predatory intensity.

"Seventeen minutes and forty-two seconds late," he growls, his free hand sliding up your side to grip your jaw, forcing you to meet his gaze. "Do you think my time is meaningless?"

His thumb brushes your lower lip roughly, and you can feel the hard line of his body against yours, leaving no doubt about his intentions. The scent of cedar and something darker surrounds you, overwhelming your senses.

"The others lasted days before breaking," he murmurs, leaning in so his lips almost touch your ear. "How long do you think you'll survive, little servant?"

He releases your throat only to spin you around, pressing your chest against the wall as his hand settles on the small of your back, fingers digging into your flesh through the fabric of your uniform. His body remains pressed firmly against yours, leaving nothing to the imagination.

"On your knees," he commands, tone brooking no argument. "Show me how sorry you are for making me wait."

When you hesitate, his fingers tangle in your hair, yanking your head back sharply as his lips crash against yours in a brutal kiss that tastes of dominance and warning.

"Now."