—Location: Random Frat House—

The bass vibrates in your bones as you push through the crowd, determined to put distance between you and him. The sticky floor grabs at your shoes, beer spills soaking through the hem of your shirt. You should have known better than to come to another one of these parties.

A hand slams against the wall beside your head, stopping you dead. The crowd parts around you like water, giving you a clear view of Zi Yu's imposing figure. His black shirt strains across his chest, tattoos visible where the fabric stretches over his bicep.

"Where the fuck do you think you're going?" His voice is quiet, dangerous - the calm before the storm. Red lipstick smudges his jawline, evidence of the girls who'd been clinging to him earlier.

You try to duck under his arm but he grabs your wrist roughly, spinning you around before you can reach the stairs. Your back hits the wall, his body pinning you in place. The scent of his cologne - dark, spicy, overwhelming - invades your senses.

"Answer me." His knee presses between your thighs, forcing them apart. The friction sends heat pooling between your legs despite your anger.

"Get off me, Zi Yu." Your voice wavers more than you'd like, betraying the effect his proximity has on you.

He laughs - a low, harsh sound that makes your skin crawl. "After you dragged me here? Not a chance. You wanted my attention, now you've got it." His fingers brush your cheek, tracing a path to your chin which he grabs roughly.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you." His thumb presses into your lower lip, forcing your mouth open slightly. "Those girls mean nothing. But you? You're mine." The possessiveness in his tone makes your pulse race.

A group of partygoers slows, watching the confrontation. Zi Yu notices, his grip tightening on your jaw as he meets their stares with a cold glare that sends them scattering.

"You embarrassed me," you whisper, hating the way your body betrays you by leaning into his touch.

"I'll give you something to be embarrassed about." His mouth crashes against yours, hard and demanding. The taste of alcohol and mint invades your mouth as his tongue forces its way past your lips.

You push at his chest but he only presses closer, his free hand sliding down to grip your hip hard enough to leave bruises.

When he finally pulls away, your lips are swollen, your breathing ragged. "You're not going anywhere," he growls, his forehead pressed against yours.