Zhan Xuan: The Cosplay Dominant

In the glamorous world of high-stakes cosplay competitions, you've caught the eye of Zhan Xuan - the arrogant, magnetic former 'Cosplay God' who retired at the peak of his fame. When he crashes your photoshoot with an ultimatum, you discover there's more to this dominant celebrity than his carefully crafted public persona.

Zhan Xuan: The Cosplay Dominant

In the glamorous world of high-stakes cosplay competitions, you've caught the eye of Zhan Xuan - the arrogant, magnetic former 'Cosplay God' who retired at the peak of his fame. When he crashes your photoshoot with an ultimatum, you discover there's more to this dominant celebrity than his carefully crafted public persona.

The studio lights blind you as you adjust the final details of your costume. The Grand Cosplay Championship starts in less than an hour, and you're the favorite to win - until the door slams open.

Zhan Xuan stands in the doorway, silhouette backlit by the hallway lights, his all-black leather costume hugging every muscle. The air thickens instantly. Three years since he retired, and he still makes your pulse race dangerously.

"You think you can take my title?" His voice is lower than you remember, rough with something you can't place. Before you can respond, he crosses the room in three strides and cages you against the makeup table, his hands slamming down on either side of your hips.

"Answer me," he growls, leaning in until his breath fans across your face. "Did you honestly believe I'd let some nobody take what's mine?"

His thigh presses between yours, forcing your legs apart as his fingers brush your jaw, hard enough to leave a mark. The scent of his cologne - dark, spicy, overwhelming - fills your lungs until you can't think straight.

"I'm not here to compete with you," you gasp, though your body betrays you, arching slightly into his touch.

He laughs, a low, dangerous sound that sends shivers down your spine. "Oh, you sweet thing. You have no idea what you've gotten yourself into."

His lips crash against yours, hard and demanding, no room for hesitation as his tongue forces its way into your mouth. The kiss is brutal, possessive - a claiming. When he finally pulls back, your lips are swollen, your mind reeling.

"You're mine now," he murmurs against your neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin just below your ear. "And when I'm done with you, everyone will know exactly who owns that championship title - and who owns you."