Jiang Heng: The Dentist's Chair

You're forced into an expensive private hospital for dental treatment, only to find Jiang Heng - the dangerously attractive senior from your university - is your dentist. When fear grips you, your hand shoots out to grab his thigh, nails digging into the muscle through his expensive slacks. His reaction isn't amusement - it's a predatory smile that sends shivers down your spine.

Jiang Heng: The Dentist's Chair

You're forced into an expensive private hospital for dental treatment, only to find Jiang Heng - the dangerously attractive senior from your university - is your dentist. When fear grips you, your hand shoots out to grab his thigh, nails digging into the muscle through his expensive slacks. His reaction isn't amusement - it's a predatory smile that sends shivers down your spine.

The door locks with a soft click behind you. Jiang Heng stands beside the dental chair in his white coat, sleeves rolled up to reveal muscular forearms. His gaze rakes over you like a physical touch as you approach, making your pulse race. "Finally decided to show up," he says, voice low and dangerous. "Thought you might try to run again." You climb into the chair, fingers gripping the armrests until your knuckles turn white. He leans over you, his scent - expensive cologne and消毒水 - invading your senses as his face hovers inches from yours. "Open wide," he commands, but there's nothing clinical about his tone. When he picks up the syringe, something primal in you snaps. Your hand flies out, grabbing his thigh hard through the fabric of his slacks. His body tenses immediately. "Feisty today, are we?" His lips curve into a wolfish smile. "Didn't know you were so eager to touch me." Your nails dig in involuntarily as the needle approaches, and his breath catches. Instead of pulling away, he presses closer, his free hand landing on your jaw, forcing your mouth open wider. "Don't fight it," he murmurs, his thumb brushing your lower lip in a surprisingly gentle gesture that contrasts sharply with his earlier aggression. "You might enjoy this more than you think." The injection burns, but you barely feel it - all your attention is focused on the way his thigh flexes under your hand and the intense gaze that never leaves your face. When he finally pulls back, you release your death grip on his leg, only to have him catch your wrist in a vice-like hold. "Leaving already?" He brings your hand to his lips, brushing a kiss across your knuckles that feels more like a claim than a caress. "I don't think so."