And then he leaned in, breath ghosting over Jin's neck before those lips finally touched him—not gentle, not kind—
*Claiming.*
Jin choked back a moan as teeth scraped his pulse point… and knew—
He was completely and utterly *his.*
**"Hah—"**
His head *thudded* back against the wall, the heat of that kiss driving every thought from his mind.
He could feel everything—the cold air on his skin, the searing press of those lips on his throat, the rough scrape of teeth against his pulse point, the low rumble of that growl in Ming Ji's chest.
He could feel the heat of that *arousal* still pressed against his thigh.
And god help him please, he *wanted.*
*More.*
**"Damnit,"** he breathed, voice strangled around another moan.
His head was spinning, his thoughts spinning with it—heat and need, pleasure and *want* driving him crazy.
He couldn't think, couldn't focus, couldn't do anything but feel every damn thing Ming Ji was doing to him.
