The city was electric that night. Neon lights painted the skyline in molten gold and midnight blue, and the air thrummed with the promise of something about to snap.
Jiawen stayed late at the office again, telling herself it was to finish the final rollout plans. But the real reason, she admitted as she ran her fingers over the cool marble of her desk, was that she couldn't bear the thought of going home—alone and restless, haunted by the way Lu Zeyan's gaze had tracked her every movement that afternoon.
She was still staring blankly at the numbers when her phone lit up.
Lu Zeyan: My office. Now.
She hesitated, her pulse skipping. She should say no—should refuse. But her body betrayed her before her mind could catch up. She stood, smoothing the front of her blouse, and walked down the empty hallway.
When she reached his office, she didn't bother to knock. He was waiting, his jacket off, sleeves rolled to his elbows, the top button of his shirt undone.
He said nothing as she stepped inside, closing the door behind her with a soft click.
For a long moment, there was only silence. The air between them was thick, electric.
"Why are you here, Shen Jiawen?" he asked finally, his voice soft but edged with steel.
She swallowed. "You asked me to come."
A faint smile touched his lips. "Did you think I was summoning you for business?"
She looked away. "I don't know what you're doing."
He rose slowly, walking around the desk. He stopped in front of her, close enough that she could smell the faint, clean scent of him—cologne and warm skin.
"Then let me make it clear," he said quietly. "I'm done pretending this is just work."
Her breath caught. "This isn't… professional."
"No," he said. "It's not."
He reached out, his fingers brushing her jaw lightly. She shivered at the touch, her resolve cracking.
"You're shaking," he murmured. "Why?"
"I shouldn't be here," she whispered.
"But you are." His thumb traced the line of her lower lip, the touch sending sparks through her. "You want this as much as I do."
She closed her eyes, trying to deny it, but her body betrayed her. She was aching—heat pooling low in her belly, her breath coming in shallow gasps.
He stepped closer, his body almost touching hers. "Say it," he said softly.
She swallowed, her voice a whisper. "I want this."
His smile was slow, dangerous. "Good."
He cupped the back of her neck, drawing her forward, his mouth claiming hers in a hard, demanding kiss. She gasped against him, her hands coming up to brace against his chest—but he was relentless, his tongue sweeping into her mouth, tasting, taking.
She melted against him, her fingers tangling in the crisp fabric of his shirt. The kiss deepened, rough and hot, a clash of need and frustration.
When he pulled back, his breath was ragged. "Turn around," he said.
She hesitated, her pulse thundering in her ears. But she obeyed, turning to face the window that looked out over the city.
She felt him behind her, his heat searing through the thin fabric of her blouse. His hands came to her hips, fingers digging in lightly as he pressed closer.
"You're so tense," he murmured in her ear, his breath hot against her skin. "Let me show you how to let go."
She bit her lip, her eyes fluttering shut as his hands slid up her sides, slipping under her blouse to find the bare skin of her waist. She shivered at his touch, her breath catching.
"Do you know how long I've thought about this?" he said, his voice a low rasp. "How long I've wanted to strip away that careful facade you wear?"
She didn't answer—couldn't. Her thoughts were a haze of heat and want, her body arching into his touch.
He unbuttoned her blouse slowly, each click of the buttons echoing in the silent office. When the fabric fell open, he pushed it off her shoulders, leaving her in a simple lace bra.
He paused, his hands skimming over her ribs. "Beautiful," he murmured.
She felt his lips against the back of her neck, hot and soft. A shiver ran down her spine as he kissed a line down to her shoulder, teeth grazing lightly against her skin.
His hands came around to cup her breasts, thumbs brushing over the sensitive peaks. She gasped, her head falling back against his shoulder.
"Zeyan…" she breathed.
"Shh," he said, his mouth against her ear. "Just feel."
He slipped a hand down her stomach, fingers brushing the waistband of her skirt. She trembled as he unzipped it, the fabric pooling at her feet.
She stood there in her lace bra and panties, the cool air against her flushed skin making her shiver. He stepped back for a moment, his eyes raking over her body.
Then he turned her to face him.
His gaze was hungry, dark with want. "Do you have any idea what you do to me?" he said.
She shook her head, her lips parted.
He smiled faintly. "Let me show you."
He kissed her again, his hands roaming her body, mapping every curve and hollow. She moaned into his mouth, her hands clutching at his shoulders.
He broke the kiss only to trail his lips down her throat, nipping and sucking until she was shaking with need. His hands slipped behind her to unclasp her bra, letting it fall away.
He paused, his eyes on her bare breasts. "Perfect," he said, his voice a rough whisper.
She flushed under his gaze, but he didn't give her time to be shy. His mouth closed over one aching peak, sucking hard enough to make her cry out. His hand teased the other, rolling the sensitive flesh between his fingers until she was squirming, her hips rocking forward.
When he finally released her breast with a soft pop, his lips were curved in a faint, satisfied smile. "You're so responsive," he murmured.
"Please," she gasped, not sure what she was begging for.
He slipped a hand between her legs, fingers pressing against the damp heat of her panties. "You're already wet for me," he said softly. "So honest here, aren't you?"
She whimpered, her hips rocking forward into his touch.
He hooked his fingers in the waistband of her panties, pulling them down slowly. She stepped out of them, her breath coming in ragged gasps.
"Turn around," he said again.
She obeyed, her hands bracing against the cool glass of the window.
He stepped closer, his body hard and hot against her back. She felt him fumbling with his belt, the soft sound of the zipper sending a fresh rush of heat through her.
When he pressed the head of his cock against her slick folds, she gasped, her body tensing.
"Relax," he murmured, one hand gripping her hip. "I won't hurt you."
He pushed forward slowly, inch by thick inch, filling her until she was stretched wide, her breath catching in her throat.
She moaned, her forehead resting against the glass. "God…"
He stilled for a moment, his breath ragged. "So tight," he rasped. "So perfect."
He pulled back almost all the way, then thrust back in hard, the slap of skin on skin echoing in the silent office. She cried out, her hands scrabbling against the window.
"Look at yourself," he said roughly, his hand tangling in her hair to turn her face to the glass. "Look at how beautiful you are like this—fucking me with the city as your witness."
She met her own gaze in the glass—cheeks flushed, eyes heavy with lust—and something in her broke. She pushed back against him, her body moving instinctively to take him deeper.
"That's it," he groaned, his pace quickening. "Take me. Show me how much you want this."
She was lost to it—lost to the heat and the slick slide of his cock inside her, the way he filled her so completely. She could feel the pleasure coiling low in her belly, winding tighter with every thrust.
He reached around to cup her breast, pinching the sensitive nipple until she cried out. His other hand slipped between her legs, fingers finding her clit and circling it in time with his thrusts.
"Come for me," he said, his voice a low growl. "I want to feel you come around my cock."
She shattered with a cry, pleasure washing over her in hot, pulsing waves. Her body clenched around him, her legs shaking.
He groaned, his hands tightening on her hips as he thrust once, twice more, then came with a ragged curse, his body jerking against hers.
For a long moment, there was only the sound of their breathing—harsh and uneven.
Finally, he pulled out slowly, his hands steadying her as she swayed on unsteady legs.
She turned to face him, her hair mussed, lips parted.
He cupped her face in his hands, his gaze softening. "Are you all right?"
She nodded, still trying to catch her breath. "Yes."
A faint smile touched his lips. "Good."
He bent to kiss her—soft, lingering, almost tender.
When he pulled back, his expression was unreadable. "This doesn't change anything," he said quietly. "We're still bound by our own rules."
She searched his face, her pulse still racing. "I know."
But as she gathered her clothes and dressed in silence, she couldn't help the flicker of something deeper—something dangerous—curling in her chest.
And she knew, no matter how hard she tried to bury it, they had crossed a line that night.
One they could never come back from.
End of Chapter Five.