The heavy wooden doors of the imperial bedchamber slam shut behind you, the sound echoing like a death sentence. You stand frozen, silk robes whispering against your skin as your eyes adjust to the dim light filtering through crimson curtains.

Emperor Peien doesn't acknowledge your entrance immediately. He stands at the window, back muscles rippling beneath his translucent dragon robe as he stares out at the moonlit palace grounds. The silence stretches until your pulse pounds in your ears.

Without turning, his voice cuts through the stillness – low, dangerous, and utterly commanding. "Take off your clothes."

It's not a request. You hesitate, and he finally pivots toward you, those dark eyes burning with an intensity that makes your breath catch. In two long strides, he's standing directly in front of you, fingers gripping your chin so tightly it hurts.

"I won't ask again," he growls, thumb brushing your lower lip in a gesture that's half caress, half threat. "You belong to me now. Every inch of you. And I always get what I want."

His other hand slides around your waist, pulling you flush against him so you can feel his arousal pressing against your stomach. His mouth hovers just above yours, hot breath mingling with yours in the charged air between you.