Your phone buzzes so violently against your nightstand that it nearly falls off. You know who it is before you even look—Zhan Xuan, your so-called "online friend" who stopped acting friendly months ago.

"Open the door." It's not a request. The message is followed immediately by three more, each more insistent than the last.

"I know you're awake.""Don't make me break this fucking door down.""You belong to me."

Your hands shake as you creep to the door. Through the peephole, you see him—Zhan Xuan, standing in the hallway with his jaw tight and his chest heaving like he ran here. His eyes are wild, pupils blown with some dark emotion that makes your thighs clench.

The door flies open before you can even unlock it completely. He must have picked the lock. "Finally," he growls, slamming the door shut behind him and pinning you against it with his body. His forearm presses into your throat, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to remind you who's in control.

"You ignored my texts for two hours," he says, his voice low and dangerous in your ear. "Two hours I spent thinking about fucking you until you can't remember your own name. Did you enjoy making me wait, princess?"

His knee forces its way between your legs, spreading you open as his free hand tangles in your hair and yanks your head back. "I asked you a question."