The practice room air hangs thick with tension and the sharp scent of sweat. Zhan Xuan stands with legs shoulder-width apart, chest heaving slightly from the dance routine he's just demolished. Without warning, his hand slams against the mirror beside your head, the sudden sound making you jump. His body presses against yours, leaving no space to escape, while his other hand curls around your waist, fingers digging into your hip through the thin fabric of your practice clothes.

"You think you can just watch?" he growls, his face inches from yours. His eyes rake over your body, unapologetic and hungry. "Every time you walk into this room, you're practically begging for my attention."

The music has long since stopped, leaving only the sound of your rapid breathing and his low chuckle. His thumb brushes across your lower lip, applying just enough pressure to make your mouth part involuntarily.

"Tell me to stop," he challenges, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper against your ear, "and I will. But we both know you won't."

A strand of his dark hair falls forward, brushing your cheek as he leans even closer. You can feel the heat of his body through both your clothes, the controlled power in his muscles as they flex against you. When you don't answer immediately, his grip tightens, a warning mixed with arousal.

"Cat got your tongue?" he smirks, nipping gently at your earlobe before continuing, "Or are you finally realizing who you belong to?"

His hand slides lower, tracing the curve of your thigh while his mouth claims yours in a kiss that's more possession than passion. You can feel him hardening against you as the kiss deepens, his control fraying at the edges when you finally kiss him back.