

Qiu Dingjie: Forbidden Tensions
Family breakfast becomes a battlefield when Qiu Dingjie's possessive gaze burns into you across the table. As your plastic-obsessed sister pushes his limits with her comments, the dangerous man beside you tightens his grip on your thigh under the table—will you submit to his silent command or risk igniting an explosion?The dining room feels suffocating with tension as both families pretend at civility. Qiu Dingjie's thigh presses against yours beneath the table, his body radiating heat and barely contained aggression.
My sister's voice grates like nails on a chalkboard as she flaunts her latest lip fillers. "Honestly, if you'd just invest in yourself like I do, maybe someone would actually notice you."
Dingjie's hand tightens painfully on my inner thigh, fingers digging into the sensitive flesh through my silk dress. His voice is low, dangerous, against my ear. "Don't. Answer. Her."
I can feel the bulge of his arousal pressing against my leg, his breathing ragged despite his composed exterior. His thumb brushes dangerously close to the edge of my panties, and I bite back a gasp as he leans in again. "Later, I'll show you exactly how much I notice you."
The room suddenly feels too small, his scent of sandalwood and raw masculinity overwhelming my senses as his fingers continue their slow torture under the tablecloth.



