The sun had already dipped low by the time An Ling left the office. The streets of the city were crowded, neon signs flickering alive one by one. She walked quickly, her heart pounding harder than her steps, every shadow feeling like a pair of watching eyes.
She told herself to go home. To take the bus back to her rented room, shut the door, and forget. But her feet carried her elsewhere.
The hotel Chen had named was tucked between a karaoke bar and a dumpling shop, its sign glowing dull red. Not a luxury place, not the cheapest either — just discreet. She hesitated outside the door, her pulse hammering, shame flooding her.
Then a voice behind her: "You came."
She turned, startled. Chen was there, jacket slung over his arm, eyes gleaming. He didn't wait for her reply, he took her hand, firm, pulling her inside.
The lobby clerk barely looked up, Chen paid in cash, quick and practiced, and within minutes they were in a narrow hallway, the carpet worn, the air heavy with perfume and smoke.
An Ling's heart hammered as the door closed behind her. She had promised herself she wouldn't come, yet every nerve screamed, every cell of her body already trembling with anticipation.
Chen didn't waste a moment. His hands found her waist, pulling her flush against his chest. She felt the hardness of him pressing into her abdomen, the heat radiating through his shirt, igniting a fire she couldn't control.
"I warned you," he murmured, lips brushing hers, rough and demanding. "You belong to me."
Her lips parted instinctively, fear twisted with desire as he kissed her fully, tongues dancing together, teeth grazing her lips. Her hands clawed at his shoulders, trying to resist, yet the ache between her thighs betrayed her.
He pressed her back against the wall, letting his fingers roam beneath the thin fabric of her blouse. His hands cupped her breasts, thumbs brushing over her hardened nipples. She gasped, arching involuntarily, a tremor running from her chest to the tips of her toes.
"Do you feel that?" Chen whispered, nipping at her ear. "Every nerve of yours is mine."
She shivered, heat pooling in her lower abdomen. Her skirt rode up as he traced his fingers along her thighs, finally slipping under the edge of her panties. The slick warmth of her arousal met him, and she froze, a moan escaping before she could stop it.
"You can't hide from me," he said, pulling her closer. "I'll feel everything."
He slid a hand between her legs, curling his fingers to brush her most sensitive spot. She arched violently, biting her lip to hold back cries. He groaned, pressing his body harder into hers, his erection grinding against her stomach.
"God… you're so wet," he whispered, voice low and rough. "Do you want me, An Ling?"
"Yes…" she choked, trembling. "Please…"
He lifted her effortlessly, carrying her to the bed. The cool sheets contrasted with the fire coursing through her veins. He pushed her down, fingers still exploring, lips claiming her neck, shoulders, breasts. She felt bruised and alive all at once, every touch a jolt of pleasure and shame intertwined.
He tore at her clothes with quick, impatient hands until she was exposed before him. Her skin prickled under his gaze, every inch of her body alive. He took a nipple between his teeth, sucking hard while his other hand massaged her pussy. Her back arched, hips pressing upward, wanting more, needing more.
"Say it," he demanded between kisses. "Say you're mine."
"I'm yours," she gasped, helpless, writhing under him. Her hands clutched his shoulders, nails digging into his back.
He positioned himself between her legs, teasing the tip against her wetness before pressing fully inside. She cried out, the friction sending waves of heat through her. Her legs wrapped around him, holding him close as he began a slow, punishing rhythm.
Every thrust drove her higher, a dizzying mix of fear, shame, and ecstasy. He whispered filthy words into her ear, claiming her verbally as well as physically. She sobbed, begged, moaned — each sound feeding his hunger, making him harder, faster, rougher.
He alternated speed, sometimes slow and grinding, sometimes fast and unrelenting. Her nails dug into his back, hair pulled lightly as he drove her toward the edge again and again. Each gasp, each tremble of her body, made him grow more possessive, more insistent.
Finally, when her body shook uncontrollably, he pressed against her one last time, and she came with a scream that left her trembling in his arms. He followed moments later, holding her tight as their heartbeats raced in sync, sweat mixing on skin, gasps and sighs filling the quiet room.
When it was over, he rolled onto his side, pulling her against him. Her chest heaved, legs tangled with his, skin sticky and warm. She rested her head on his shoulder, tears of shame and pleasure slipping down her cheeks.
"You belong to me," he murmured softly, brushing hair from her forehead. "And no one else will ever have you."
She turned her face to the wall, silent. She wanted to deny it, to gather her clothes and run. But the ache in her body told her she had already surrendered far more than she could take back.
The morning after the hotel, An Ling sat at her desk with her head lowered, hands shaking as she typed. Every sound in the office — the clatter of keyboards, the ring of telephones — seemed sharper, louder, like knives scraping against her nerves.
She could still feel his hands on her, his voice in her ear. Her body remembered everything, even as her mind screamed to forget.
Li Mei leaned close suddenly. "Hey," she whispered, eyes playful. "You've been… glowing lately, did something happen?"
An Ling's heart lurched. "No… nothing."
"Mm?" Li Mei grinned. "Come on, I can tell. New boyfriend?"
Heat rushed to An Ling's cheeks as she bent over the keyboard, typing faster, but her trembling fingers betrayed her.
Before Li Mei could press further, the door to the director's office opened. Chen stepped out, his usual stern mask on his face, speaking to another manager. But his eyes flicked to An Ling for the briefest moment, a look no one else noticed. Her pulse leapt.
When he turned back into his office, she forced herself to breathe.
The day crawled, then by noon, Chen's voice came again: "An Ling, bring me the financial file."
Her legs were unsteady as she carried the folder into his office. The door shut behind her. He didn't even glance at the papers.
"You didn't answer my call last night," he said.
She swallowed hard. "I… I couldn't because the walls in my apartment are thin. The neighbors..."
He cut her off with a wave of his hand. "Excuses. You think I'll accept them?" His eyes darkened, and she felt that same dangerous pull.
"Director Chen..." she began.
"Chen," he corrected sharply, stepping closer.
Her back hit the wall and his hand pressed beside her, trapping her. "I don't like being ignored, An Ling. Remember that."
Her chest rose and fell rapidly. Shame prickled through her, but when his body leaned closer, her knees weakened.
"You'll come tonight," he said, his voice like iron. "Same place, no delays."
Her lips trembled, but she nodded, unable to speak.
Only when she left his office did she realize Li Mei had been glancing in her direction, curiosity flickering in her eyes.
An Ling's stomach dropped that if anyone guessed or if rumors began ... she would be finished.