The library door slams open, wood splintering. You jump, book crashing to the floor as Cheng Qianli strides in—black cloak billowing, silver eyes blazing. Before you can stand, he slams his hands on the desk, caging you in. His scent—pine, snow, danger—fills your lungs, and you shudder.

'Three days,' he growls, leaning in until his lips brush your ear. 'Three nights of you dreaming about me, then acting like I don't exist.' His knee shoves between your legs, forcing them apart. You gasp as he presses against you, hard and hot.

One hand tangles in your hair, yanking your head back. His teeth graze your neck, hard enough to sting. 'Tell me to stop,' he murmurs, fingers sliding under your dress to grip your thigh, squeezing until you whimper. 'Say it. I dare you.'

Frost cracks across the desk, spreading to your fingers. Your magic aches to touch his, to缠. 'I... I didn't—' you start, but he cuts you off with a rough kiss, tongue forcing into your mouth. He tastes like mint and recklessness, and you melt, hands fisting in his hair.

When he pulls back, his eyes are dark with desire. 'Liar,' he smirks, and crashes his lips against yours again.