Chapter Ten: The Lines We Cross

The air between them in the office was electric—taut and humming with everything unsaid. Shen Jiawen tried to focus on her work, but every glance at her phone—no messages from Lu Zeyan—felt like a crack in her armor.

He hadn't said anything about the ex. Hadn't asked, hadn't probed. But his possessiveness in the elevator still lingered in her veins, hot and heady.

She was halfway through reviewing quarterly projections when her phone buzzed.

Lu Zeyan:

I want you in my office. Now.

Her breath caught.

She swallowed, stood, and made her way to the executive suite. The receptionist gave her a polite nod as she walked past, but she barely noticed. Her pulse was already racing.

The door was ajar. She knocked softly.

"Come in."

He was at his desk, but he wasn't working. He was leaning back in his chair, jacket off, sleeves rolled to his forearms. His dark eyes met hers and held.

"Close the door."

She did, the soft click sounding louder than it should have.

He rose slowly, his gaze sweeping over her in a way that made her skin tingle.

"You've been avoiding me," he said, his voice low.

"I've been busy," she lied.

He walked toward her, each step deliberate, controlled. "Busy with what? Thinking about him?"

She flinched. "I told you, he doesn't matter."

He stopped in front of her, so close she could feel the heat of his body. "He was here. He put his hands on you."

She lifted her chin. "You're my client, Mr. Lu. That's all."

His eyes darkened. "Don't do that."

"Do what?"

"Pretend you're unaffected." His fingers brushed her jaw, a gentle, almost reverent touch. "Because I know better, Shen."

She tried to step back, but he caught her wrist, pulling her closer. "You're mine."

The words were a low growl, possessive and hungry.

Her breath hitched. "You can't say that."

He tilted his head, his mouth inches from hers. "Can't I?"

She opened her mouth to protest, but the words dissolved when he pressed his lips to hers. The kiss was soft at first—testing, teasing—then it deepened, a demand she couldn't deny. His hand tangled in her hair, tilting her head back as his tongue swept into her mouth, hot and relentless.

She moaned, her hands clutching at his shirt, the feel of him grounding and electric all at once.

He pulled back just enough to whisper, "You're mine, Shen. I won't share you with anyone."

He lifted her onto his desk, papers scattering around them. She gasped as the cold glass pressed against her thighs through the thin fabric of her skirt. He didn't give her a chance to catch her breath, his mouth finding the hollow of her throat, biting lightly.

"Zeyan…" she whispered, her fingers twisting in his hair.

He looked up at her, eyes dark and hungry. "Say it again."

"Zeyan."

His name on her lips seemed to push him over the edge. He pushed her skirt up, his hand sliding up her thigh, fingers grazing the thin lace of her underwear. She shivered, the anticipation almost too much.

"You're wet for me," he murmured, his fingers pressing against the damp fabric. "Even when you're pretending to be so composed."

She bit her lip, trying to stifle a whimper. "We shouldn't…"

He silenced her with another kiss, this one bruising and desperate. "Don't tell me what we shouldn't do, Shen. Tell me what you want."

Her hands tightened on his shoulders. "I want you."

He smiled against her mouth. "Good. Because I'm not going to stop."

He slid her underwear to the side, his fingers teasing her folds before pushing inside. She gasped, her hips arching off the desk.

"Fuck," he groaned, his thumb brushing her clit in slow circles. "You're so tight."

She clung to him, her head falling back as pleasure built in her belly. The rhythm of his fingers was unrelenting, coaxing moans from her lips.

"Zeyan—please—"

He moved faster, his breath hot against her ear. "Come for me, Jiawen."

And she did—her body tensing, then shattering around his fingers. He watched her the whole time, his expression fierce and possessive.

As she came down, he withdrew his hand, sliding his fingers into his mouth and sucking them clean. The sight made her shiver all over again.

"Beautiful," he murmured.

He didn't give her a chance to recover. He unbuckled his belt, pushing his trousers down just enough to free himself. She watched, mesmerized by the sight of him—thick, hard, and already glistening with precum.

"You want this?" he asked, his voice a low growl.

She nodded, her breath ragged. "Yes."

He didn't tease. He positioned himself at her entrance, his hands gripping her hips. With one hard thrust, he filled her completely.

She cried out, the sudden fullness making her toes curl. He held her there, letting her adjust before pulling back and driving into her again.

The desk rocked beneath them, the sound of skin on skin echoing in the room. She clung to his shoulders, her moans mingling with his ragged breaths.

"Look at me," he ordered, his thumb brushing her cheek.

She forced her eyes open, and the intensity in his gaze stole her breath.

"You're mine," he said again, each thrust punctuating the words.

"Yes," she gasped. "Yours."

His pace quickened, his hips slamming into hers with punishing force. Her orgasm built again, sharp and insistent.

"Come for me again," he commanded.

She did—her body shaking, muscles clenching around him. He cursed, his rhythm faltering as he thrust once, twice more before spilling inside her with a low groan.

For a moment, they were both still, breathing hard, their foreheads pressed together.

He pulled back slightly, brushing a damp strand of hair from her face. "Are you okay?"

She nodded, too breathless to speak.

He pressed a soft kiss to her temple. "Good. Because I'm not done with you."

She shivered at the promise in his voice.

Later, when she slipped off the desk and smoothed her skirt, he watched her with an intensity that made her stomach flip.

"Stay," he said.

She hesitated. "We're at work."

"I don't care."

She looked away, gathering her composure. "I need to get back to my desk."

He stepped closer, his hands resting on her waist. "You can pretend this doesn't mean anything, Shen. But I won't."

She swallowed. "What do you want from me, Zeyan?"

His jaw tightened. "Everything."

Back at her desk, she tried to focus, but her mind was a blur of sensation and questions.

She couldn't deny what was happening between them any longer. The way he touched her, the way he looked at her—it was more than lust.

It was dangerous.

And she was already in too deep.

End of Chapter Ten.