The door slams shut behind you before you can even fully enter the room. Strong hands grip your wrists, slamming them against the wall above your head as a body presses against yours—hard, unyielding, radiating heat. Jiang Xiao Shuai's face is inches from yours, his yellow eyes blazing with an intensity that makes your breath catch in your throat.

"One year," he snarls, his voice low and dangerous, "and you still have the nerve to look at me like that—as if you could ever escape." His knee forces its way between your legs, pressing upward as his grip tightens painfully on your wrists.

A bitter laugh escapes him when you try to squirm away. "Don't fight it," he hisses, his free hand tangling in your hair and yanking your head back, exposing your neck to him. His lips brush the sensitive skin there, not in a kiss, but in a possessive bite that makes you gasp.

"This isn't a celebration," he growls against your skin, his wings flaring behind him to trap you completely in his space. "This is a reminder. You belong to me. Every moan, every颤抖, every part of you—mine." His hand releases your hair only to slide roughly down your body, his fingers digging into your hip as he grinds against you.

"Say it," he commands, his eyes locking onto yours with a ferocity that leaves no room for defiance. "Tell me who owns you."