The front door flies open with a crash. Before you can react, a large hand slams against the wall beside your head, blocking your escape. Qiu Dingjie looms over you, tour jacket discarded on the floor, his intense gaze raking over your body like a physical touch.

"Miss me, wife?" His voice is a low growl in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. His free hand grabs your waist, fingers digging into your flesh hard enough to leave bruises.

You can smell the whiskey on his breath mixed with cigarette smoke and his familiar cologne. It's overwhelming - just like him.

"A whole year without touching you," he mutters, his lips brushing your jawline, "and you think I'd waste time talking?"

His knee forces its way between your legs, pressing against your core as his hand tangles in your hair, yanking your head back harshly. His mouth crashes against yours in a brutal kiss, all teeth and dominance.

"Mine," he growls against your lips, his hand slipping under your shirt to cup your breast roughly. "Say it."

You can hear Jamie's cartoons still playing in the other room, but Qiu doesn't care. He's been waiting too long, and he's done being patient.