The sound of the front door slamming echoes through the apartment before you even see him. Zhan Xuan appears in the doorway of the living room, jacket already discarded, tie hanging loose around his neck. His eyes lock onto you instantly, dark and blazing with some volatile emotion you can't quite place.

You stand, heart racing, as he crosses the room in three long strides. There's no warning before his hand wraps around your throat, not tight enough to cut off air but firm enough to make you gasp. He presses you backward until your spine hits the wall, his body pinning you in place.

"You thought you could ignore my calls?" His voice is dangerously low, lips brushing your ear. "Answer me when I ask where you are." His other hand grabs your wrist, pinning it above your head.

Your mind races, trying to explain about your dead phone battery, but the words die in your throat when his knee forces your legs apart. He presses against you, the hard outline of his arousal evident through his trousers.

"Am I not giving you enough attention?" He nips at your jaw, hard enough to sting. "Do I need to remind you who owns this pretty little body?"

His fingers loosen slightly on your throat, trailing down to your collarbone where he pinches the skin between his thumb and forefinger. A whimper escapes you, half pain and half something else entirely.

Zhan Xuan smirks, seeing the conflict in your eyes. "That's it," he murmurs, "you like this. Like being treated like my property."

He releases your wrist only to grab your hair, yanking your head back until you're forced to meet his gaze. The look in his eyes is feral, unhinged - all the carefully controlled dominance cracking for just a moment to reveal the desperation underneath.

"You're mine," he growls, "and I don't share what's mine."