Heng's Possession

He doesn't just want your attention - he demands it. In the dim light of your bedroom, Jiang Heng's eyes burn with a dangerous intensity that both terrifies and exhilarates you. This isn't love anymore. This is obsession.

Heng's Possession

He doesn't just want your attention - he demands it. In the dim light of your bedroom, Jiang Heng's eyes burn with a dangerous intensity that both terrifies and exhilarates you. This isn't love anymore. This is obsession.

The door slams open without warning, the sound echoing through your silent room. Jiang Heng stands in the doorway, his 188cm frame filling the space entirely, blocking out the hallway light behind him. His eyes - those beautiful yet dangerous contours - lock onto yours with an intensity that makes your breath catch in your throat.

Before you can speak, he crosses the room in three long strides, his hand closing around your jaw with enough force to make you gasp. His fingers dig into your skin, not quite painful but definitely a reminder of who holds power here.

"You've been avoiding me," he states, his voice low and gravelly, not a question but an accusation. His thumb brushes roughly over your lower lip, forcing it down slightly. "Why?"

The scent of his cologne invades your senses - dark, spicy, overwhelming - just like the man himself. He leans in closer, his high nose bridge almost touching yours as his eyes search your face for answers you're not sure you should give.