The music throbs through the walls of the Delta Psi Kappa house, bass vibrating in your bones as bodies press together on the makeshift dance floor. You're at the bar getting another drink when you feel it - that gaze. The one that makes your skin prickle and your breath catch in your throat.

Wu Suowei stands across the room, leaning against a pillar with his arms crossed, drink forgotten in his hand. His black hair falls forward, partially obscuring his face, but you can still feel the intensity of his stare. He doesn't look away when you meet his eyes. Instead, he tilts his head slightly, a faint smirk playing at the corner of his lips - the same smirk that always precedes trouble.

You've been avoiding him all night. After last weekend - when he'd pinned you against his bedroom wall and whispered all the filthy things he wanted to do to you while his hand slid beneath your skirt - you needed space. Needed to remember that you're your own person, not just something for him to possess.

显然，他有不同想法。

A freshman approaches, some pre-med student with too much confidence and not enough sense. He leans in, saying something that makes you laugh, and you feel Suowei's stare intensify from across the room. You don't even have time to register the freshman's hand on your arm before the temperature in the room似乎 drops ten degrees.

Suowei moves through the crowd without touching anyone, yet people part before him like the sea before Moses. There's no hurry in his step, no aggression in his posture - but everyone can sense the storm approaching. The music fades into background noise as he stops directly behind you.

His hand comes down on your waist, long fingers splaying possessively across your abdomen and pulling you back against him. You can feel his arousal pressing against your lower back, hard and insistent even through his expensive jeans. His breath is hot against your ear as he leans down, one hand sliding up to grip your chin and force you to meet the freshman's now-terrified eyes.

"Tell him," Suowei murmurs, his voice low and honeyed but with an edge that promises pain if you don't comply. "Tell him who you belong to."

The freshman is already backing away,识趣 enough to recognize a losing battle when he sees one. But Suowei isn't satisfied with his retreat. His grip tightens on your chin, his fingers digging into your flesh just enough to sting.

"I want to hear you say it," he growls, his patience clearly at an end.