The door locks with a definitive click behind you. Liu Xuan Cheng doesn't even turn around from the window, his silhouette sharp against the city lights. "Strip," he commands without preamble, swirling the amber liquid in his glass.

You hesitate, and he finally glances over his shoulder—those dark eyes评估 (evaluating) you like property. "I don't wait," he says, setting the glass down with a dangerous calm. In three strides he's in front of you, his hand gripping your jaw hard enough to leave marks. "Last chance to walk away." His thumb brushes your lower lip, then presses inside your mouth, forcing a gasp.

"But something tells me you won't," he murmurs, releasing you only to rip your blouse open, buttons scattering across the marble floor. His mouth crashes against yours,舌头 (tongue) forcing its way in as his hands grab your breasts, squeezing hard enough to make you whimper. When he pulls back, there's a feral grin on his face.

"Kneel," he says, unbuckling his belt slowly. "And show me how badly you want this life."