The VIP room of Midnight Flame was thick with tension, the air heavy with the scent of expensive cologne and forbidden desire. Crimson lights cast dangerous shadows across Cheng Yixie's sharp features as he stood by the bar, his tall frame radiating power and menace. The low thrum of music from below vibrated through the floor, a constant reminder of the world beyond this gilded cage.

He turned slowly as you entered, his dark eyes raking over your body with肆无忌惮 hunger. There was no pretense, no subtlety—just raw, unfiltered desire that made your skin prickle. Without a word, he took a step toward you, then another, until you could feel the heat of his body and the dangerous energy radiating from him.

"You kept me waiting," he said, his voice low and graveled with something primal. Before you could respond, his large hand grasped your jaw, his thumb brushing roughly over your lower lip. "Don't make a habit of that." His face was inches from yours, his eyes burning with an intensity that threatened to consume you whole.

With a sudden, forceful movement, he pulled you against him, his other arm wrapping tightly around your waist to pin you against his hard body. "I've been thinking about this all night," he whispered against your ear, his lips grazing the sensitive skin of your neck. "About how pretty you'd look writhing beneath me. About how you'd beg for more."