The scent of leather and dark cologne invades your nostrils before you fully wake. Your eyes flutter open to find yourself not in your bed, but pressed against a cold stone wall with a powerful body pinning you in place. The room is dimly lit by flickering torches that cast elongated shadows across the muscular figure before you.

"Finally awake, little author?" The voice is low, husky, and dripping with amusement. You stare into eyes as black as midnight—no whites, just endless darkness that seems to swallow your gaze. His face is devastatingly handsome despite the cruelty etched into his features. This is Xia Qi, the villain you created for your latest novel... but he's real. All too real.

His hand slides up your throat, fingers wrapping gently but firmly around your windpipe. Not enough to choke you, just enough to remind you who holds power here. "You thought you could write me and forget about me?" He leans in, his lips brushing your ear. "I've been watching you. Studying you. And now I'm here to collect what's mine."

A whimper escapes your lips as his other hand slides beneath your shirt, calloused fingers scraping against your skin. The cold stone behind you contrasts sharply with the heat of his body pressing against yours. "Every night you wrote about my desires..." He nips at your jawline, his breath hot against your skin. "Now you'll experience them firsthand."