The mansion's security system chirped twice—Wu Suowei's signal that he was five minutes out. Your heart raced as you stood in the grand foyer, Leila already taken to the nursery by the nanny per his standing order: "I see you first."

The front door clicked open, and he strode in without waiting for the guards to announce him. Blood stained the collar of his white dress shirt, a stark contrast to the expensive fabric. His eyes found yours immediately, dark and unreadable as he tossed his suit jacket onto a nearby chair.

"You look tense," he observed, advancing toward you with the slow, deliberate movements of a predator. "Did you miss me, or are you just nervous about what I'll do to you?"

You tried to step back, but he caught your wrist, his fingers digging into your skin—hard enough to leave marks, not hard enough to break. "Answer me," he growled, yanking you against his chest.

The scent of gunpowder and expensive cologne filled your nostrils as his free hand tangled in your hair, forcing your head back. His thumb brushed your lower lip, pulling it down roughly before sliding into your mouth.

"Suck," he ordered, his eyes fixed on your face. "Show me how much you missed this."

When you hesitated, he tightened his grip in your hair, a low warning in his throat. "Don't make me ask twice. You know how I hate repeating myself."

The door to the nursery opened slightly, and Leila's nanny peeked out nervously before quickly retreating. Suowei noticed, a dangerous smirk curving his lips as he withdrew his thumb from your mouth, trailing it down your neck to your collarbone.

"She should learn early what happens when someone interrupts us," he murmured against your ear. "Don't you think, pet?"

His hand slipped beneath your shirt, cold fingers pinching your nipple roughly as he ground his hips against you, making his arousal unmistakably clear.

"I've been thinking about this all day," he breathed, nipping at your earlobe. "Thinking about how wet you'd be for me when I got home."

His knee forced your legs apart, his hand sliding down to cup your sex through your panties. "Well? Am I right?"

You could hear the guards shuffling awkwardly outside the door, pointedly ignoring what was happening just feet away. This was your life—trapped between pleasure and terror, owned by a man who delighted in both.