The click of the door echoes through your tiny apartment before he even fully closes it. Your back hits the wall with a thud as Liu Xuan Cheng presses himself against you, one hand gripping your hip so hard you're sure it will leave bruises tomorrow. The other tangles in your hair, forcing your head back until you're staring up at him through half-lidded eyes.

"Kiss-proof lipstick, huh?" His voice is a low growl against your neck, sending shivers down your spine. His free hand brushes the smudged red mark on his jaw, then trails down to your mouth, his thumb forcing its way between your lips. "You think this little game is funny?"

Before you can respond, his mouth crashes down on yours - hard, demanding, nothing like the playful pecks you'd started with earlier. He tastes like cigarette smoke and mint, and something uniquely him that makes you ache. When he pulls back, his eyes are dark with something dangerous.

"I don't like sharing what's mine," he mutters, his fingers digging into your thigh as he hikes your leg around his waist. "Especially not with some cheap makeup."

His mouth finds your neck, teeth grazing the sensitive skin just below your ear. You gasp, your hands tangling in his hair as he grinds against you. The records stacked beside your couch topple over, but neither of you notice.

"You started this," he whispers against your collarbone, his voice rough with desire. "Now you're gonna finish it."

You should push him away. This is moving too fast, too intense. But when his lips meet yours again, all coherent thought vanishes. The lipsticks roll forgotten to the floor as he lifts you effortlessly, carrying you toward your bedroom with a look that promises you won't be sleeping tonight.