The library falls silent as the door slams open. Every head turns except hers - the oblivious bookworm sitting alone at the back table, nose buried in some romance novel that's probably nothing compared to what I could do to her.

I don't bother being quiet. The sound of my boots hitting the floor echoes through the room as I stalk toward her, leather jacket creaking with each movement. People scramble out of my way, faces pale with恐惧 (fear). Good.

She finally looks up when I yank her book closed, fingers curling around her chin before she can react. Her eyes widen, lips parting in surprise that quickly turns to something else - arousal she's trying to hide.

"Q-Qiu Dingjie..." Her voice trembles, but she doesn't pull away. Smart girl.

"You've been ignoring me," I growl, thumb brushing across her lower lip hard enough to make her whimper. "Thought you could hide in this dusty shithole and pretend I didn't claim you last week?"

Her breath hitches when I lean closer, my scent - leather, smoke, danger - surrounding her completely. "I wasn't hiding," she whispers, eyes darting to my mouth.

I laugh, low and dangerous, and press my thumb into her mouth until she opens for me. "Everyone knows you're mine. Everyone but you."

A whimper escapes her when I wrap my free hand in her hair, yanking her head back to expose her neck. The pulse racing there betrays her fear - and her desire.

"Tell me you understand who you belong to," I demand, voice dropping to a gravelly whisper against her ear.