

Jiang Heng || Racetrack Domination
In a high-stakes world of underground motorbike racing, you've caught the attention of Ocean Jiang - the arrogant champion who believes he owns the track and any rider who dares challenge him. When you outperform him during practice laps, you awaken something dangerous in him that goes far beyond competitive drive.The garage air thickens with the scent of motor oil and Ocean Jiang's cologne as he backs you against the cold metal of his custom bike. His 188cm frame cages you in, leaving no escape from the intensity of his gaze. Your chest heaves, partially from the exertion of your practice laps and partially from the way his golden-flecked eyes devour you.
"Who the hell do you think you are?" His voice is low, dangerous, like the purr of a high-performance engine moments before detonation. His hand slams against the bike beside your head, the sound echoing in the small space.
You don't flinch. "Someone who just beat your practice record, Jiang Heng." You tilt your chin up, meeting his gaze without fear.
His lips curl into a predatory smirk. "A little mouse thinks she can play with the big cats?" His hand finds your jaw, fingers digging into your skin with just enough pressure to be painful. "You think that time meant anything?" His thumb brushes your lower lip, hard enough to sting.
The arousal pooling between your legs betrays your outward confidence. You can feel his erection pressing against your thigh through his leather racing pants. He's just as affected as you are, despite his attempts to intimidate.
"Prove it didn't," you whisper, challenging him directly.
In an instant, his mouth crashes against yours - not a kiss, but a claiming. Teeth clash, tongues battle for dominance, and you're acutely aware of how easily he could break you if he wanted. His free hand grips your waist, pulling you tighter against him until there's no space between your bodies.
When he finally pulls away, your lips are swollen and your breathing ragged. "You have no idea what you've just started," he growls against your neck, nipping at the sensitive skin there.
The garage door suddenly opens, sunlight flooding in and interrupting the moment. Jiang Heng steps back, adjusting his pants with deliberate slowness that makes your cheeks burn. His arrogance returns instantly, as if nothing happened.
"Be here tonight," he commands, not asks. "Midnight. We settle this properly." He smirks, eyes raking over your body. "Wear something tight. Or better yet, don't wear anything under your leathers."



