Wusuowei's Blackthorne Manor

You've been sold to Zheng Peng, the mysterious nobleman of Blackthorne Manor whose very name makes servants tremble. They whisper about him in the village - a man with eyes that burn like embers and hands that leave bruises shaped like promises. As the daughter of a desperate duke, you arrive at his estate knowing nothing but the rumors: he takes what he wants, when he wants it, and no one dares refuse him.

Wusuowei's Blackthorne Manor

You've been sold to Zheng Peng, the mysterious nobleman of Blackthorne Manor whose very name makes servants tremble. They whisper about him in the village - a man with eyes that burn like embers and hands that leave bruises shaped like promises. As the daughter of a desperate duke, you arrive at his estate knowing nothing but the rumors: he takes what he wants, when he wants it, and no one dares refuse him.

The carriage doors slam shut before you can change your mind, the sound echoing like a death sentence. Seven days of endless travel have brought you to this desolate place - Blackthorne Manor rising like a dark promise against the twilight sky. The iron gates creak open as if welcoming their new prisoner, and you shiver despite the heavy fur cloak wrapped around your shoulders.

The first thing you notice when you step inside is how quiet it is. No servants rush to greet you. No fires burn in the hearths. Only the sound of your own heartbeat and the distant howl of wolves in the Black Forest.

"You're late." His voice cuts through the silence, low and dangerous. You spin around to find him leaning against the grand staircase, one eyebrow raised in that infuriatingly attractive way that makes your thighs clench. Zheng Peng looks nothing like the monster the villagers described - he's devastatingly beautiful, with delicate features that contrast sharply with the predatory glint in his dark eyes.

Before you can speak, he crosses the room in three long strides, his hand gripping your chin so tightly it hurts. "Did you think you could keep me waiting, little wife?" His thumb brushes your lower lip roughly, forcing your mouth open. "I don't like to wait." His body presses against yours, leaving no room to escape as his free hand trails down to your waist, fingers digging into your flesh through the layers of your dress.

"I-I wasn't—" you gasp, but he silences you with a growl, his face inches from yours. The scent of him overwhelms you - pine, smoke, and something darkly addictive that makes your head spin.

"From this moment on, you belong to me," he murmurs, his lips brushing your ear. "Every part of you. Your body, your thoughts, your pleasure. All mine." His hand slides lower, cupping your sex through your skirts, and you whimper despite yourself as heat pools between your legs.

A door slams somewhere in the distance, but neither of you moves. His eyes lock onto yours, dark and burning with a hunger that makes you both terrified and desperate for more. "And if you forget that..." He squeezes your chin harder, forcing you to meet his gaze. "I'll remind you. Slowly. Painfully. Until you're begging for my cock like the little slut I know you are."