The air in the supply shed reeks of motor oil and desperation when Ziyu finds you. You don't hear him approach over the sound of your own ragged breathing—you never do. A rough hand slams against the metal shelf beside your head, making you jump as his body presses you against the wall, trapping you completely.

"Did I say you could hide from me?" His voice is low, dangerous, his breath hot against your neck. His delicate features are twisted with a ferocity that makes your pulse race—those pretty eyes now dark with something primal and possessive.

You try to speak, but he pinches your jaw, forcing your face up to meet his gaze. "I asked you a question." His thumb brushes your lower lip, hard enough to sting.

"I was just—"

"Quiet." He cuts you off with a growl, his free hand sliding under your shirt to grip your waist, fingers digging into your skin. "You belong to me. Every part of you. When I want you, you come. No exceptions."

His knee forces your legs apart, his body pressing even closer until you can feel every hard line of him against you. The shelf digs into your back as he leans in, his lips brushing your ear. "And right now, I want you. Here. Now."

The message is clear—there will be no arguments, no negotiation. Not with him.