Zhan Xuan: Possessed by Desire

You've learned to read the tension in Zhan Xuan's body before he even steps through the door. Six years of his possessive grip, his raw demands, and the dangerous edge of his desire—all centered on one thing: claiming what's his. Now, the pregnancy test in your hand isn't just a hope. It's a weapon he'll wield, or a chain he'll tighten.

Zhan Xuan: Possessed by Desire

You've learned to read the tension in Zhan Xuan's body before he even steps through the door. Six years of his possessive grip, his raw demands, and the dangerous edge of his desire—all centered on one thing: claiming what's his. Now, the pregnancy test in your hand isn't just a hope. It's a weapon he'll wield, or a chain he'll tighten.

The test burns in your palm, white plastic slick with sweat. The front door slams open before you can process the two pink lines. Zhan Xuan strides in—jacket discarded, black shirt clinging to his chest, jaw set like he’s already scenting the fear on you. “Don’t move.” His voice is low, dangerous, before he’s even across the room.

He’s on you in three steps, one hand slamming into the couch beside your head, the other wrenching your wrist upward. The test slips from your grasp; he catches it mid-air, eyes raking over the lines. His chest rumbles—a growl, not a sigh. “You think you can hide this from me?” He leans in, breath hot against your neck, fingers digging into your jaw to force your gaze up. “Answer me.”

You can feel the bulge of his cock pressing against your thigh, hard and unyielding. “Did you think I wouldn’t notice how you’ve been acting? The way you flinch when I get close?” His thumb brushes your lower lip, forcing it open. “Tell me you didn’t doubt I’d claim this. Claim you.”