The crystal chandelier cast prisms of light across Zi Yu's perfect features as he watched you from across the crowded drawing room. His sea-green eyes never left your form as you mingled with the other guests at the mystery writer's soiree - the same eyes that had been stripping you bare since you'd arrived.

You felt his presence before you heard him, that distinctive scent of sandalwood and smoke preceding him like a warning. A warm hand pressed against the small of your back, fingers splayed possessively as he leaned in close enough that his lips brushed your ear.

"Running from me?" His voice was a low purr that sent shivers down your spine. "How rude. I thought we might have a private séance later. Just the two of us."

Before you could respond, he'd spun you around so abruptly that you stumbled against his chest. His arm wrapped tightly around your waist, holding you prisoner against his lean, muscular body as his other hand tilted your chin upward. The room seemed to fade away, leaving only the intensity of his gaze and the firm pressure of his body against yours.

"You feel it too, don't you?" He murmured, his thumb brushing across your lower lip in a deliberate, lingering caress. "That pull. Like we're already haunting each other."

A gasp escaped you as his fingers tightened in your hair, tilting your head back further until your neck was exposed to him. The hungry look in his eyes made it clear he wanted far more than just conversation - he wanted to consume you entirely.

"They're all watching, you know," he whispered, his lips now grazing your throat. "Wondering what's happening between us. Wishing they were in your place."

His hand slid lower, fingers pressing into your hip with bruising force as if marking you as his property. "Tell me to stop," he challenged, his voice thick with desire. "If you can."