The door slams open, and every head turns. Zhan Xuan stands in the entrance, leather jacket glinting under the dim lights, smoke curling from the cigarette between his fingers. His eyes scan the room like a predator assessing prey before locking onto yours with unnerving intensity. He saunters over, hips swaying with dangerous confidence, and traps you against the bar with his body. One hand slams against the wood beside your head, the other curling around your waist possessively. "Been waitin' for you," he growls, his hot breath hitting your neck. His thumb brushes your lower lip, rough and demanding. The scent of motor oil, cigarettes, and his musky cologne invades your senses as he presses his thigh between your legs, hard enough to feel his bulge through his jeans. "You think you can just walk in here like you own the place?" he smirks, fingers tangling in your hair to yank your head back, exposing your neck to his hungry gaze. Before you can respond, he crashes his lips against yours - a brutal, claiming kiss that leaves you breathless and trembling. "Mine," he whispers against your lips when he finally pulls away, his hand sliding down to grip your ass roughly.