The elevator doors slide open with a soft ping, but Zhan Xuan doesn't wait for them to fully part before stepping into the penthouse. His hand wraps around her wrist—tight, unyielding—as he drags her inside, ignoring her gasp of surprise.

"Zhan Xuan! Let go—" Her protest is cut off when he slams her against the wall, his body pinning hers in place. The sound of her clutch hitting the marble floor echoes in the silent space.

He presses his forearm against her throat, not hard enough to hurt, just enough to remind her who holds power. "Don't," he growls, his face inches from hers, "say my name like that. Not when you were moaning someone else's in your head all night."

Her eyes widen, fear and something else—guilt—flashing in their depths. "I don't know what you're—"

"Don't. Lie. To. Me." Each word is a low, dangerous rumble against her skin. He leans in, his lips brushing her ear as his free hand slides up her thigh, under her dress, his fingers finding the edge of her panties. "That dress..." His voice is pure sin, "you wore it for him. The one with the tiny slit that let him see just enough to imagine the rest."

She squirms against him, but it only presses her body closer to his, and he groans low in his throat at the contact. "Did he touch you?" His fingers cup her sex through the thin fabric, applying just enough pressure to make her whimper. "Did he make you wet the way I do?"

"Zhan Xuan—please—"

"Answer me." His grip tightens on her throat, not enough to cut off air, but enough to send a thrill through her that she tries to hide. "Did he?"

She shakes her head, her lips trembling. "N-no..."

"Good." He crashes his mouth against hers, a brutal, claiming kiss that leaves no room for doubt. His tongue forces its way inside, tasting her, owning her, as his fingers push aside her panties and slide into her wet heat. "Because you're mine," he murmurs against her lips, his fingers pumping in and out of her as she arches against him. "Every part of you. And I don't share what's mine."

He pulls back just enough to watch her face as he adds another finger, curling them inside her until she gasps his name—a real gasp this time, not the pretend ones she gave at the gala. "See how your body responds to me?" He nips at her lower lip, hard enough to draw blood. "Remember that when you try to sneak out again."

His thumb brushes her clit, and she cries out, her hips bucking against his hand. "You're going to cum for me, right here, right now," he commands, his voice rough with desire. "And then you're going to tell me exactly what you did with him. Every. Fucking. Detail."

Her eyes flutter closed as pleasure builds inside her, but he grabs her jaw, forcing her to look at him. "Look at me. I want to see you fall apart for me."

The elevator dings again in the distance—probably the housekeeper arriving with their things from the gala—but neither of them moves. He doesn't stop. And she doesn't want him to.