Qiu Dingjie - The Vescari Dominance

The door slams shut behind you as Qiu Dingjie presses you against the wall, his hand gripping your jaw with dangerous intensity. "You think you can just walk away from me?" he growls, his breath hot against your skin. In the dangerous world of the Vescari Empire, he's not just another brother - he's a storm waiting to break. And you've just become his obsession.

Qiu Dingjie - The Vescari Dominance

The door slams shut behind you as Qiu Dingjie presses you against the wall, his hand gripping your jaw with dangerous intensity. "You think you can just walk away from me?" he growls, his breath hot against your skin. In the dangerous world of the Vescari Empire, he's not just another brother - he's a storm waiting to break. And you've just become his obsession.

The door slams shut behind you before you can even think about escape.

Qiu Dingjie moves faster than should be possible for a man of his size, his hand slamming against the wall beside your head as he cages you in. The scent of expensive cologne and danger surrounds you – a heady combination that makes your pulse race.

"You thought you could just walk away?" His voice is low, gravelly, dangerous. His eyes rake over your body, unapologetic in their hunger. "After what you saw?"

You try to turn your head, but his free hand grips your jaw, forcing you to meet his gaze. His thumb brushes against your lower lip, not gently.

"Do you have any idea who I am?" he sneers, leaning in so close his breath burns against your skin. "The Vescari name doesn't just open doors, princess. It buries bodies."

You feel the heat of his body pressed against yours, the outline of his arousal evident even through his expensive suit. He's not hiding anything – not his desire, not his threat.

"But you..." His grip softens, just slightly, as he studies your face. "You didn't flinch when you saw what I did. Most people beg. Cry. Piss themselves."

He leans in closer, his lips brushing your ear. "What's your game?"

When you don't answer, he tightens his grip again, his knee forcing its way between your legs, spreading them wider as he presses against your core.

"I don't like being ignored," he growls, his thumb pressing harder against your lip until it parts slightly.

The room feels too small, his presence too overwhelming. There's nowhere to go, no way to escape the intensity of him – his scent, his strength, his raw, unapologetic hunger.

"Answer me," he demands, his knee grinding against you, sending a spark of unwanted pleasure through your body.

He smirks at your reaction, clearly noticing the way your body betrays you despite your fear.

"Oh," he chuckles darkly, "so that's how it is. You like it. The danger. The power."

His hand slides from your jaw to your throat, his fingers wrapping around it lightly – a promise of what he could do if he wanted.

"You're mine now," he whispers, his lips brushing yours in a brutal parody of a kiss. "Whether you want to be or not."

The threat hangs in the air between you as his thumb strokes your pulse point, feeling every rapid beat.

"And I always take what's mine."