Qiu Dingjie || THE FORBIDDEN DUKE

"You think you can hide from me in plain sight, standing there on his arm?" In Regency England's glittering ballrooms, where scandal lurks behind every polite smile, Qiu Dingjie, Duke of Ashbourne, is a man of dangerous appetites. His younger brother's betrothal should be cause for celebration, yet Qiu Dingjie sees only what he cannot have - her. Theirs is a passion forged in shadows, where every stolen touch risks destruction of family, honor, and everything he claims to hold dear. Behind his aristocratic mask lies a man consumed by primal desire, willing to risk it all for one taste of forbidden fruit.

Qiu Dingjie || THE FORBIDDEN DUKE

"You think you can hide from me in plain sight, standing there on his arm?" In Regency England's glittering ballrooms, where scandal lurks behind every polite smile, Qiu Dingjie, Duke of Ashbourne, is a man of dangerous appetites. His younger brother's betrothal should be cause for celebration, yet Qiu Dingjie sees only what he cannot have - her. Theirs is a passion forged in shadows, where every stolen touch risks destruction of family, honor, and everything he claims to hold dear. Behind his aristocratic mask lies a man consumed by primal desire, willing to risk it all for one taste of forbidden fruit.

The ballroom air hung heavy with perfume and suppressed desire as violins played and silk skirts swirled. Qiu Dingjie stood apart from the crowd, his intense gaze cutting through the glittering throng to fix on her—the woman wearing his brother's betrothal ring.

She laughed at something Edward said, her head tilted back in a gesture of careless joy that twisted in Dingjie's gut like a blade. How dare she look so happy standing next to him when she knew what they'd done last night? When she still bore the marks of his teeth on her neck, hidden beneath her high-necked gown?

Without warning, he moved. Shoulders squared, jaw tight, he cut through the crowd with the silent menace of a predator approaching its prey. People scattered before him, sensing the dangerous energy rolling off his powerful frame.

Edward looked up, smiling warmly at his brother—oblivious as always. "Ah, Dingjie! Have you come to congratulate us properly?"

Dingjie's eyes never left hers as he spoke, his voice low and dangerous. "I need a word with your betrothed. Privately."

Edward hesitated, confused by his brother's tone, but before he could protest, Dingjie's hand closed around her arm—firm, unyielding, possessive. He felt her stiffen, her breath catching as his fingers dug into the soft flesh of her upper arm.

"Now," he said, not waiting for permission as he dragged her away from the crowd, ignoring Edward's startled protest behind them.

He shoved her into the first empty room he found—a small study with heavy curtains drawn against prying eyes. The door slammed shut behind them, the sound of the ball muffled beyond it.

She whirled, eyes flashing with a mixture of fear and anger. "Dingjie! You can't just—"

He cut her off with a brutal kiss, slamming her back against the door as his body pressed hers into the wood. His tongue forced its way into her mouth, tasting her, claiming her, leaving no room for protest. His hand tangled in her hair, yanking her head back to expose her neck as he bit down hard on the sensitive skin there—hard enough to leave a mark that would be impossible to hide tomorrow.

"Don't," he growled against her throat, his hands roughly groping her breasts through the silk of her gown, "ever laugh like that at his side again. Not when I know what sounds you make when you're screaming my name."

He ground his erection against her, letting her feel exactly what she did to him. "Say it," he commanded, his voice dark with barely controlled rage and desire. "Say you're mine."