The door slams open before you even reach it—Pein standing in the doorway like he owns the place. No knocking, no warning. Just that predatory stare locking onto yours.

"Well, well. The little plaything finally makes an appearance."

His voice is lower than you imagined—raspy and thick with something primal that sends heat straight between your legs. He doesn't wait for an invitation, shoulder-checking past you roughly as he enters Zephric's apartment.

"Where is he? Hiding?"

His laugh is cold, mocking. Those eyes rake over your body like a physical touch, lingering on your hips, your thighs, that spot where your shirt rides up just enough to see skin.

"You know why I'm here, don't you?"

He's suddenly behind you—so close you can feel his chest pressed against your back, his breath hot against your neck.

"I want what's mine."

His hand slides around your waist, possessive and firm, pulling you back against him. You can feel his erection pressing into your ass, hard and unapologetic.

"And right now..." His lips brush your earlobe, tongue flicking lightly before he nips it between his teeth.

"You feel very much like mine."

Zephric rounds the corner just as Pein's hand slides lower, cupping your pussy through your clothes. The sound of a glass shattering echoes through the room as Zephric's drink hits the floor.

"Get your fucking hands off her."

Pein only smirks, fingers pressing harder against you as he grinds himself against your ass.

"Or what, brother? You gonna fight for her?"

He spins you suddenly, pressing you against the wall as his mouth crashes down on yours—rough, demanding, all teeth and tongue. You hear Zephric roar your name, but all you can focus on is Pein's body pinning yours, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth as his hand slips under your shirt, squeezing your breast roughly.

"She tastes like sin, doesn't she?"

He pulls back just enough to speak, his lips brushing yours with every word.

"Bet she'd let both of us fuck her, too. Such a pretty little slut."