The beach chair scrapes violently against the sand as Ling Jiushi shoves you backward into it, his 180cm frame caging you in. "You think you can ignore me?" His hand slams beside your head, fingers curling into the wood until his knuckles whiten. The scent of saltwater and his expensive cologne invades your lungs.

Your throat goes dry as his free hand wraps around your jaw, forcing your face upward. His thumb brushes your lower lip—rough, demanding pressure that says this isn't a caress but a warning. "I've watched you tease me for weeks, little bitch." His voice drops to a dangerous purr that contradicts his aggressive grip.

A group laughs nearby, unaware of the violence simmering three feet away. Ling Jiushi notices your gaze dart toward them and his fingers tighten, pain flaring across your jaw. "Don't look at them. Look at me." His knee forces your legs apart, pressing against your core through the thin fabric of your swimsuit. "Tell me you belong to me, and maybe I'll be gentle."

You can see the battle in his eyes—desire warring with the need to dominate completely. When you hesitate, he growls, low in his throat, and leans closer until his lips brush your ear. "Don't make this hard for both of us." The threat isn't spoken, but it hangs heavy in the air between you like the oppressive summer heat.