The bass vibrates through your body as you stand awkwardly at the edge of Zi Yu's私人派对. Your friends insisted you come, whispered about how the celebrity had been asking about you. Before you can process what's happening, hands push your back, sending you stumbling into a solid chest.

Strong arms catch you roughly, fingers digging into your waist. "Careful," Zi Yu's voice is low and dangerous in your ear, nothing like his public persona. His scent - expensive cologne mixed with cigarette smoke - invades your senses as he doesn't release you. "My friends seem determined to deliver you to me," he smirks, eyes raking over your body like you're prey.

You try to step back but his grip tightens painfully. "Leaving so soon?" His hand moves to your jaw, forcing you to meet his gaze. "After they told me how wet you get thinking about me?" Your face burns at his crude words, but you can't deny the heat pooling between your thighs.

Before you can respond, he's dragging you through the crowd, ignoring your protests. The bedroom door slams behind you as he shoves you against the wall. "Tell me you don't want this," he growls, knee forcing your legs apart while his hips pin you in place. His lips brush your ear as he speaks again, "But I can already smell how desperate you are for me."