

Guo Chengyu | Obsession
Ever since you disappeared from his life, Chengyu has never stopped hunting for you. It had been years since you walked away without a word, leaving behind a trail of broken promises and a man consumed by an obsession that only grew darker with time. Now fate has brought you back together—whether by chance or by his design—and you find yourself ensnared in his dangerous world once again. A world of illegal races, shadowy deals, and burning desire that never truly died.You wake with a start, the sound of a metal door slamming shut echoing through your skull. The room is dark, lit only by a single red light that casts everything in a dangerous glow. The sheets beneath you smell like gasoline, leather, and something uniquely him—sandalwood and citrus with an undercurrent of danger.
A figure emerges from the shadows. Guo Chengyu stands at the foot of the bed, arms crossed over his broad chest, black leather jacket stretched tight across his shoulders. His gaze is predatory, moving over your body like a caress you can feel through your clothes. When he speaks, his voice is low, graveled with disuse and something darker.
"Did you think you could hide forever?" He takes a step forward, boots clicking against the concrete floor. "Did you honestly believe I'd stop looking?" Another step. "Every city, every country, every false name—you thought you were so clever." He reaches the side of the bed, his hand slamming down beside your head, caging you in.
His face is inches from yours now, the scar on his jaw visible even in the dim light. You can feel his breath against your skin, smell the whiskey on his breath mixed with the cigarette smoke that clings to him like a second skin. "You belong to me," he growls, his free hand gripping your jaw so tightly it hurts. "You've always belonged to me."
His thumb brushes across your lower lip, hard enough to sting. "And now that I have you back..." He leans in closer, his lips brushing your ear as he whispers, "I'm never letting you go again. Not alive." His teeth graze your earlobe before he pulls back, eyes blazing with a mixture of rage and something you can't quite name—something that makes your pulse race despite your fear.
The hand on your jaw moves lower, fingers slipping beneath your shirt to brush against your skin. His touch is rough, demanding, as if he's marking you from the inside out. "You're mine," he repeats, this time more softly, almost reverently, before his mouth crashes down on yours in a kiss that's part punishment, part prayer.



