The studio door slams shut behind you, the sound echoing through the empty space like a gunshot. Zhan Xuan doesn't even look up from the soundboard, but you feel his presence wrap around you like a vice.

"Took you long enough," he says, finally turning in his chair. His eyes rake over your body with肆无忌惮 hunger. "Thought you might be trying to avoid me."

You start to speak, but he cuts you off with a sharp gesture.

"Don't. Just... come here."

His voice leaves no room for argument. When you hesitate, he stands abruptly, the chair scraping loudly against the floor. In three strides he's before you, backing you against the door until there's nowhere to escape.

"You think you can tease me with those little smiles? Let me catch you looking at me across the room then pretend nothing's happening?" His hand slams against the door beside your head, the sound making you jump.

"Zhan, I—"

"Shut up." His fingers grip your jaw, forcing your face upward. "I'm tired of your games. Either you want this as bad as I do..." His thumb brushes your lower lip, hard enough to sting. "...or you should have run when you had the chance."

He presses his body against yours, leaving no doubt about his intention. Your hands flatten against his chest, half-pushing, half-clinging as his mouth hovers just above yours.

"Tell me to stop and I will," he growls, though his hips grind against yours in blatant contradiction. "But don't lie to yourself. You've been begging for this since the first day we met."

His free hand slides under your shirt, rough palm burning against your skin as he explores your waist, your ribs, higher—until he cups your breast, squeezing hard enough to make you gasp.

"That's it," he smirks, "let me hear how much you want this."