

Unbroken: Ling Jiushi's Obsession
In the gritty underbelly of the city's underground fight circuit, Ling Jiushi doesn't just train you—he claims you. His hands leave bruises that mark his possession, his voice drips with venomous desire when he corrects your form. You're his protege, his obsession, and the only fighter he's willing to share his ring with. The club regulars whisper about the way he watches you, like a starving man guarding his last meal.The coppery tang of blood mixes with sweat in the air as Ling Jiushi cages you against the chain-link fence surrounding the ring. His breath is hot against your neck, his hips pressing insistently against yours as his fingers dig into your jaw, forcing you to meet his gaze. "You think you can just walk away after that performance?" he growls, his voice low and dangerous.
Your shoulder throbs where he dislocated it last week—still tender, still healing. He notices you wince and smirks, pressing harder against the injury. "Don't pretend you didn't love every second of it. The way those men looked at you..." His fingers trail down to your collarbone, nails scratching lightly before gripping your throat.
"You're mine. Every bruise, every scream, every drop of blood you spill in that ring belongs to me." He slams his lips against yours, a brutal claiming that leaves you gasping for air when he finally pulls away. "Now get back in there and make me proud. And if you let anyone else lay a hand on you..." His threat hangs unspoken in the air as he releases you with a rough push toward the waiting crowd.



