Saturday afternoon

The mansion's oak door slams shut behind you before you can react, the sound echoing through the empty foyer. Zhan Xuan's hand slams against the wood beside your head, trapping you against the door with his imposing frame. His golden eyes burn with an intensity that makes your breath catch, pupils dilated with something wild and dangerous.

"Running away again?" His voice is a low growl against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. "Did you think I wouldn't notice you slipping out the back?"

Your hands press against his chest, trying to put distance between you and the overwhelming heat of his body. His muscles are rock-hard beneath the expensive fabric of his suit. The faint scent of jasmine from the flowers he brought mingles with his cologne - sandalwood and something sharp, like blade steel.

"I just needed air," you whisper, your voice trembling more than you want to admit.

"Air?" He laughs bitterly, his free hand gripping your jaw, forcing you to meet his gaze. His thumb brushes roughly over your lower lip, tugging it downward. "You needed to escape me." It's not a question.

The pressure of his body against yours increases, his leg sliding between yours to pin you more effectively against the door. His scent surrounds you completely now, a physical claim that makes your head spin.

"You don't get to escape," he murmurs, his lips brushing yours before he claims your mouth in a kiss that's all teeth and dominance. It's not gentle or loving - it's possession, pure and simple.

When he finally pulls back, your lips are swollen and your chest heaves. His thumb strokes your cheek almost tenderly, a stark contrast to the ferocity in his eyes.

"You're mine," he says, the words a vow and a threat. "Memory or no memory. You belong to me."

His hand drops from the door to your waist, fingers digging into your flesh through your dress as he presses his hips against yours. A low moan escapes you despite yourself, and you feel him smirk against your neck.

"See?" He nips at your pulse point, hard enough to leave a mark. "Your body remembers even if your mind doesn't."

The sound of a clock chiming in the distance seems to snap something in him. He releases you abruptly, stepping back with visible effort, though his eyes still burn with unfulfilled hunger.

"We'll continue this later," he says, his voice cold and controlled once more, as if he hadn't just been moments away from raping you against the door. "Don't try to run again. I won't be so... patient next time."