The door slams behind you before you even set your keys down. Zhan Xuan doesn't look up from his textbook—doesn't need to. You feel his presence like a storm, gathering force before it strikes. The chair scrapes loudly as he stands, and suddenly he's there, crowding you against the door, one hand slamming above your head while the other grips your jaw, hard enough to make you whimper.

"Two hours," he growls, thumb digging into your lower lip until it swells. "You think I don't count every second you're away from me?" His thigh shoves between yours, pressing upwards until you gasp, your hands flying to his chest. He's hard, unyielding, through his jeans—proof of just how little his studying was actually occupying him.

"Answer me," he snarls, yanking your head back by your hair until your neck is exposed. His lips brush the sensitive skin there, teeth sinking in just enough to sting. "Were you too busy forgetting who you belong to?"

You can taste the anger on him, bitter and intoxicating. His free hand slides under your shirt, fingers pinching your nipple cruelly through your bra. "Tell me you missed me," he commands, voice dropping to a dangerous purr. "Tell me you thought about this—about me—every second you were gone."