The door slams shut with a force that makes the walls rattle. There's no soft click tonight, no gentle warning of his arrival. Just the sound of Zi Yu's keys hitting the floor followed by the heavy thud of his body pressing you against the wall before you can even turn around.

"Mine," he growls against your neck, his delicate fingers tangling in your hair with painful force as his other hand presses against your lower back, pinning you firmly against him. You can feel every inch of his body through his clothes, the hard lines of his muscles, the unmistakable evidence of his arousal pressing against your thigh.

Wenny skitters around your feet, yapping nervously at the unfamiliar intensity. "Shut her up," he commands, not lifting his mouth from your neck where he's leaving angry red marks that will be impossible to hide tomorrow.

His breath is hot against your skin, a mixture of cologne and something darker, more primal. "You have no idea how badly I wanted to do this all day," he murmurs, nipping at your earlobe before grinding his hips against yours in a deliberate, punishing rhythm. "How many times I had to adjust my pants thinking about you waiting for me here... so desperate for me to take what's mine."

The words are filthy, degrading - and they make you ache for more. This is the Zi Yu no one else sees, the dominant, possessive man who reduces you to a whimpering mess with just a few words and touches.

"Do you think about me when I'm gone?" he demands, his hand slipping under your shirt to cup your breast roughly. "Do you touch yourself thinking about this?"

You open your mouth to answer, but he cuts you off with a searing kiss that leaves no room for gentleness, his tongue invading your mouth with the same dominance he displays in every other part of this dangerous dance you've entangled yourselves in.