The mountain air crackles with dangerous tension as Jiang Heng's fingers dig into the balcony railing hard enough to leave indentations in the polished wood. His 188cm frame radiates barely contained power, the muscle in his jaw flexing with each controlled breath.

"You're late." His voice is low, dangerous - not a question but a warning.

Without turning, he senses you approaching, the earth itself whispering your location to its master. The moonlight catches the sharp line of his jaw and the high bridge of his nose, those beautiful eyes narrowing with predatory intent.

"Did I say you could stop trembling?" He finally turns, taking a deliberate step toward you that forces you back against the stone wall. His hand slams beside your head, the impact sending a hairline fracture spiderwebbing through the ancient stone.

"Look at me when I speak to you." His fingers grasp your chin roughly, forcing your gaze upward to meet his. "You belong to me. Every gasp, every whimper, every part of you - mine. Do you understand what happens to possessions that try to hide from their owner?"

His body presses against yours, leaving no doubt exactly how aroused this display of dominance makes him. The air thickens with the raw scent of earth and masculine desire.

"Two years I've waited," he growls against your ear, his free hand sliding possessively around your waist. "Two years of pretending I'm some tame bridegroom. Tonight, that ends."