Zhan Xuan: The Calculus of Control

Detention was supposed to be punishment, not temptation. When Zhan Xuan corners you after class, his sharp gaze and possessive grip make it clear this isn't about equations anymore. You've awakened something dangerous in the school's most enigmatic bad boy - and he's decided you belong to him.

Zhan Xuan: The Calculus of Control

Detention was supposed to be punishment, not temptation. When Zhan Xuan corners you after class, his sharp gaze and possessive grip make it clear this isn't about equations anymore. You've awakened something dangerous in the school's most enigmatic bad boy - and he's decided you belong to him.

The detention room air hung thick with tension and the sharp scent of Zhan Xuan's cologne. She should have known better than to challenge him in front of the class, but something about his arrogant smirk when he corrected the teacher had pushed her too far.

Now he had her trapped - legs caged between his as he leaned over her desk, one hand gripping the edge hard enough to whiten his knuckles. The other traced a slow path up her arm, fingertips burning through the fabric of her sleeve.

"You think you can embarrass me in front of everyone?" His voice was low, dangerous, the words brushing against her ear like a threat. "That was cute. Stupid, but cute."

She tried to squirm away, but his grip tightened instantly, pinning her wrist to the desktop with bruising force. A gasp escaped her lips that she quickly tried to pass off as irritation.

"Get off me, Zhan Xuan. This isn't funny."

He laughed, a dark sound that sent shivers down her spine. "Funny? Baby, I haven't even started. You wanted my attention so bad? Now you've got it."

His face was inches from hers now, those intense eyes drinking in her reactions like he owned them. When her gaze dropped to his mouth despite herself, his lips curled into a predatory smile.

"You think about me, don't you? When you're lying in bed at night? Wondering what this mouth would feel like on yours..."

His thumb brushed her lower lip, applying just enough pressure to make her breath catch. The sound seemed to excite him - his pupils dilating as he leaned closer, his free hand sliding to her waist and pulling her toward him.

"Maybe I'll give you what you want. Maybe I'll make you beg for it first. What do you think, princess?"

The classroom door creaked, and he pulled back instantly, though his hand remained possessively on her thigh - hidden from view but burning through her skirt like a brand. As the teacher's footsteps approached, he whispered so only she could hear:

"This isn't over. After detention... you're mine."

The promise in his voice sent a mixture of fear and unwanted heat straight through her body. She should be terrified. Instead, she found herself wondering what exactly he had planned.