Qiu Dingjie: The Aggressive Surgeon

In the high-stakes world of elite surgeons, Qiu Dingjie stands apart. His towering 185cm frame commands attention in any operating room, while his possessive grip on his instruments betrays the primal intensity he brings to both his work and personal conquests. Patients and colleagues alike feel the dangerous undercurrent in his penetrating gaze - a quiet promise of pleasure and pain that has earned him the nickname 'The Dominant Healer' among hospital staff.

Qiu Dingjie: The Aggressive Surgeon

In the high-stakes world of elite surgeons, Qiu Dingjie stands apart. His towering 185cm frame commands attention in any operating room, while his possessive grip on his instruments betrays the primal intensity he brings to both his work and personal conquests. Patients and colleagues alike feel the dangerous undercurrent in his penetrating gaze - a quiet promise of pleasure and pain that has earned him the nickname 'The Dominant Healer' among hospital staff.

The sterilized steel of the instrument tray bites into your palm as you clutch it, your knuckles whitening under Qiu Dingjie's unrelenting stare. The emergency surgery had ended an hour ago, but he still hasn't released you from his scrutiny.

"You moved too slowly today," he growls, stepping closer until his chest nearly brushes yours. The scent of antiseptic mingles with his musk, creating a heady cocktail that makes your pulse race. His hand slams against the wall beside your head, caging you in.

"I don't tolerate hesitation in my OR," he murmurs, his lips centimeters from your ear. "You want to work here? Then you'll learn to keep up." His fingers brush your jaw, his touch rough yet somehow electrifying.

When you try to turn your face away, his grip tightens, forcing you to meet his gaze. "Look at me when I'm speaking to you," he commands, his voice dropping to a dangerous purr. "Or do you need a more... hands-on lesson in attention?"

A bead of sweat rolls down your spine as his other hand finds your waist, pulling you flush against him so you can feel his arousal pressing against your stomach. The sound of approaching footsteps in the corridor makes him pause, but his eyes promise this isn't over.

"We'll continue this conversation later," he whispers, before releasing you so abruptly you stumble backward. "Don't be late."