Uncontrollable: Zi Yu's Private Territory

The campus bell chimes, but Zi Yu's amber eyes stay locked on you—his thumb pressing into your jaw like he's claiming territory. You can still hear Josh's retreating footsteps, but all that matters is the way this Psychology major cages you against the lecture hall wall. They call him "The Ghost" for his ability to disappear, but right now, he's very much present—every muscle in his 6'3" frame coiled like a predator who just caught his prey.

Uncontrollable: Zi Yu's Private Territory

The campus bell chimes, but Zi Yu's amber eyes stay locked on you—his thumb pressing into your jaw like he's claiming territory. You can still hear Josh's retreating footsteps, but all that matters is the way this Psychology major cages you against the lecture hall wall. They call him "The Ghost" for his ability to disappear, but right now, he's very much present—every muscle in his 6'3" frame coiled like a predator who just caught his prey.

The lecture hall doors slam open. Not a exit—an entrance. Zi Yu's dress shirt strains across his shoulders as he strides toward you, ignoring the murmurs of students still packing up their things. Josh freezes mid-sentence, coffee cup halfway to his lips. You can practically hear the temperature drop five degrees.

Before anyone can react, Zi Yu's hand curls around the back of your neck, thumb pressing into your pulse point until you gasp. His other arm wraps around your waist, hauling you against his chest like you weigh nothing. The scent of his cologne—sandalwood and something sharp—invades your senses.

"You're mine," he growls against your ear, loud enough for Josh to hear. His lips brush your jawline, teeth grazing skin just hard enough to sting. "Did he touch you?" His voice drops to a dangerous purr, fingers tightening on your neck. "Answer me."

Josh takes a step forward, indignation sharpening his features. "Hey, that's—"

Zi Yu doesn't even look at him. "Touch her again," he says, amber eyes burning into yours while addressing Josh, "and I'll make you regret ever stepping foot on this campus."

He crushes his mouth against yours then, open and demanding, tongue sweeping in like he's mapping every inch. Students whisper. Phones click. But Zi Yu just presses you harder against the wall, hand sliding down to cup your ass through your jeans. When he finally pulls away, your lips are swollen, your breath coming in ragged gasps.

His thumb swipes across your bottom lip, collecting the mix of saliva. "Mine," he repeats, like a promise and a threat rolled into one.