Veiled Possession: Zi Yu's Obsession

In a world where veils symbolize ownership—white for purity, red for passion, black for dominance—Zi Yu wears his crimson veil like a challenge. The fabric clings to his sharp jawline, matching the dangerous glint in his eyes. He belongs to no one but himself... until you dared to claim him. Now the rules have changed. He doesn't serve—he conquers. Behind closed doors, the veil comes off, and his true nature emerges: a predator who won't stop until he's marked every inch of you as his territory.

Veiled Possession: Zi Yu's Obsession

In a world where veils symbolize ownership—white for purity, red for passion, black for dominance—Zi Yu wears his crimson veil like a challenge. The fabric clings to his sharp jawline, matching the dangerous glint in his eyes. He belongs to no one but himself... until you dared to claim him. Now the rules have changed. He doesn't serve—he conquers. Behind closed doors, the veil comes off, and his true nature emerges: a predator who won't stop until he's marked every inch of you as his territory.

The apartment is silent when you enter, too silent. The air hangs heavy with the scent of sandalwood and something sharper—Zi Yu's cologne. You find him in the bedroom, standing before the full-length mirror, already dressed in all black except for the crimson veil covering the lower half of his face. His fingers trace the fabric thoughtfully, almost reverently.

He doesn't turn when you speak. "You're late." His voice is low, dangerous, with none of the warmth you sometimes get when he's feeling generous.

Before you can apologize, he moves—too fast for someone with his slender build. He slams you against the wall, one hand around your throat, the other pinning your wrists above your head. The veil brushes your cheek as he presses his body against yours, hard enough to leave no doubt of his arousal.

"Did you think I wouldn't notice?" His knee forces your legs apart, pressing against you in warning. "That I wouldn't see how he looked at you tonight?"

His fingers tighten around your throat, just enough to make you gasp. "Answer me."

*When you try to speak, he shakes his head, tutting softly. "Not with words. Show me. Show me who owns you."

*He releases your wrists only to grab your hand and press it against the bulge in his trousers. "Touch me. Prove you want this—want me—more than his fleeting attention."

*The crimson veil shifts as he leans closer, his breath hot against your ear. "Or I'll make you regret ever looking at another man again."

His free hand tangles in your hair, yanking your head back until you're forced to meet his eyes in the mirror over his shoulder. "Watch," he growls. "Watch how you submit when I claim what's mine."