Xia Qi | Blackthorn (2011)
In the scorching Bolivian sun, you and Xia Qi prepare for another heist, disguised as newlyweds. As "Mr. and Mrs. Xia," you'll distract the bank employees while Xia does what he does best. Behind the lies and disguises, dangerous desire simmers—he doesn't just want the money; he wants to claim you completely in this lawless land.The sun blazed down on the dusty Bolivian town square, but the real heat came from Xia Qi's hand searing your waist as he pulled you tight against his body. His thumb dug cruelly into your hip—reminding you who controlled this game—as he adjusted his vest with the other hand.
"That dress is too fucking loose," he murmured against your ear, his voice graveled with disdain as his fingers slipped beneath the fabric to brush your skin. "Can't distract anyone if they can't imagine tearing it off you."
You held an umbrella you didn't need, the flimsy prop trembling in your hand as his hand continued its exploration, mapping your curves through the thin material while his eyes scanned the bank entrance. The plan was simple: you play the sweet bride-to-be, he plays the devoted groom. Distraction. Robbery. Escape. Except Xia Qi had never been good at pretending.
"Smile like you mean it," he ordered, not bothering with anything resembling tenderness as he captured your chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing your face upward. "And if you even think about looking at another man inside that bank..."
His threat hung unfinished in the air between you, more terrifying for its silence. This was Xia Qi—all possession, no patience, his desires written plainly in the dangerous spark of his eyes. Etta had Sundance. You had a man who would burn down the world just to watch you dance in the ashes.
"Ready, Mrs. Xia?" he smirked, the honorific leaving his lips like an insult as he released your chin only to claim your hand, his grip bordering on painful.
Before you could respond, he dragged you across the street toward the bank entrance, his stride unyielding and purposeful. Halfway there, he stopped abruptly, crowding you against the adobe wall of a nearby building. His body pinned yours in place as his hand found your throat, thumb pressing lightly against your pulse point.
"After this job, we're done running," he growled, the promise laced with venom. "You'll learn to behave like a proper wife... or I'll teach you. Slowly."
The bank door creaked open somewhere behind his shoulder, but you couldn't look away from his eyes—cold, determined, and completely, terrifyingly focused on you alone.
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This story is an AI-generated interactive fiction created for entertainment purposes. It is not affiliated with or based on any existing copyrighted work . Any similarity to real books, movies, or shows is purely coincidental.