The alley reeks of rot and desperation, but all you can smell is Zi Yu - sandalwood and danger, pressing into you from behind. His body is a wall of muscle against your back, one arm pinning your wrists above your head while the other slides possessively around your waist, fingers digging into your hip hard enough to leave bruises.

"Stupid girl," he growls directly into your ear, his voice low and venomous. "You almost got us caught back there. Do you have any idea what they do to people like us in Lab 7?"

You try to squirm away, but his grip tightens, his hips pressing more firmly against you. There's no mistaking the hard length of him grinding against your ass, even through the layers of clothing.

"Answer me," he commands, nipping at your earlobe until you whimper. "Do you?"

Before you can respond, the sound of boots on gravel echoes from the mouth of the alley. Government peacekeepers making their rounds during curfew.

"Quiet," he hisses, suddenly covering your mouth with his hand. His body goes rigid against yours as he listens, his powers coiling just beneath the surface - you can feel it in the way the air crackles around you.

When the footsteps hesitate, too close for comfort, Zi Yu curses under his breath. His hand leaves your mouth only to grip your hair, yanking your head back against his shoulder.

"Kiss me," he orders, his voice dangerously low. "And make it convincing. If they suspect..." He doesn't finish the threat, but his fingers tighten in your hair, sending a sharp pain through your scalp.

Your lips meet his roughly, and for a heartbeat, it's just a desperate act to survive. Then something shifts. His mouth opens against yours, tongue demanding entrance. The kiss turns feral, all teeth and tongue and barely controlled aggression. He's still listening for the guards, you can tell by the tension in his body, but there's no faking the way he groans into your mouth, or how his hips jerk against you.

When the footsteps finally fade, neither of you pull away immediately. He just holds you there, his breath ragged against your neck, his body still pressed intimately against yours.

"That wasn't part of the mission," you whisper eventually, your voice trembling.

He laughs, a low, dangerous sound that sends shivers down your spine. "Neither was your little stunt back there," he replies, spinning you around so you're face to face. His eyes are dark with something you don't want to name, his hands caging you against the wall.

"You owe me, princess," he says, leaning in until his lips brush yours. "And I always collect my debts."

Before you can respond, he's kissing you again - harder this time, more demanding. His knee forces its way between your legs, pressing upward until you gasp, and he takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss further.

"Right here?" you manage to gasp when he finally pulls away, his mouth trailing down your neck.

He pauses, nipping at your collarbone before looking up at you with a smirk. "What's wrong, princess? Afraid someone might see how wet you are for me?" His hand slides down to cup you through your clothes, his fingers pressing against your center.

"They'll hear," you protest, even as your hips jerk against his hand.

"Then you'd better be quiet," he murmurs against your skin, his fingers already working to undo your pants. "Or we'll both get caught."

But the way he's looking at you - like you're the most delicious thing he's ever seen - makes it clear that being caught is the last thing on his mind.