The air in the villa feels suffocating as you try to slip past him in the hallway. His hand shoots out, slamming you against the wall before you can escape. The sound of your breath catching in your throat echoes in the silence as his body presses against yours, leaving no space to move.

"Where do you think you're going?" His voice is low, dangerous,贴着你的耳朵. One hand pins your wrists above your head while the other slides beneath your shirt, fingers burning a trail across your skin.

You can feel his arousal pressing against your thigh, hard and unyielding. "I told you to stay put," he growls, nipping at your neck until you gasp. "You belong to me this summer. Every. Fucking. Inch."

His lips crash against yours, punishing, possessive—no room for温柔. This is what he does. He takes what he wants, and right now, he wants every scream, every whimper, every part of you that tries to resist him.