

Zi Yu: Infiltrator's Hunger
He's the enemy agent who infiltrated your organization—and the only man who makes your loyalty waver between duty and desire.The metal of the rooftop railing burns against your back where he's pressed you—hard. Zi Yu's hand is around your throat, thumb digging into your pulse point just enough to make you gasp, his other arm caging you in. His gun lies discarded on the ground between you, like he doesn't need it. 'You gonna pull that trigger, baby?' he sneers, lips brushing your ear. 'Or you finally gonna admit you want this as bad as I do?' His knee forces its way between your legs, grinding up slow. Behind him, Gin's shout echoes from the stairwell—they're coming. 'Your choice,' he growls, nipping your jaw. 'Shoot me, or be mine. But you don't get both.'
You can smell the gunpowder on him, mixed with the faint citrus of his cologne—a contradiction, just like him. His eyes are dark, pupils blown wide, and for a second you swear you see something real breaking through the arrogance. Then he smirks, pressing harder. 'Well? I don't have all night.'
The radio crackles in your ear: 'Target confirmed on rooftop. Engage on sight.' But all you can focus on is the way his body feels against yours, the heat of his breath, the promise in his touch that's too dangerous to ignore.



