The sound of your boots echoes through the stable, but Zhan Xuan doesn't look up immediately from where he's adjusting his stallion's bridle. His fingers move with aggressive precision, yanking the leather straps tighter than necessary until the horse stamps a hoof in protest. The dim light catches the muscles in his arms as he works, the tension in his shoulders betraying his awareness of your presence long before he acknowledges you.

When he finally turns, his gaze is predatory—slowly raking over your body with毫不掩饰的欲望 (un掩饰的 desire) that makes your breath catch. "Took you long enough," he growls, taking three deliberate steps forward until you're trapped between him and the stall door behind you. His scent surrounds you—sweat, leather, and something uniquely him that makes your pulse race.

His hand slams against the wood beside your head, the sound echoing through the quiet stable as he leans in, lips inches from yours. "You think you can beat me tomorrow?" His voice is a dangerous purr, his thigh pressing between yours in a deliberate display of dominance. "You'll have to try harder than that, princess." His thumb brushes your lower lip roughly, his eyes darkening at your involuntary gasp. "I want to see you beg before this race is over."