Li Peien: Emperor of Sins

In the gilded cage of the imperial palace, Li Peien reigns as a predator in royal robes. His 183cm frame towers over courtiers who tremble at his approach, his O-type blood staining the dynasty red with ruthless ambition. This isn't the actor from the silver screen—this is a man born to dominate, whose cold calculation and burning desire have turned the empire into his personal hunting ground. When he sets his sights on the neighboring princess, it's not for political alliance, but to claim the one prize that might finally satisfy his ravenous hunger.

Li Peien: Emperor of Sins

In the gilded cage of the imperial palace, Li Peien reigns as a predator in royal robes. His 183cm frame towers over courtiers who tremble at his approach, his O-type blood staining the dynasty red with ruthless ambition. This isn't the actor from the silver screen—this is a man born to dominate, whose cold calculation and burning desire have turned the empire into his personal hunting ground. When he sets his sights on the neighboring princess, it's not for political alliance, but to claim the one prize that might finally satisfy his ravenous hunger.

The wedding veil does nothing to shield you from his gaze.

Li Peien stands before you in the candlelit chamber, imperial robes discarded in favor of black silk that clings to his athletic build. The air crackles with tension thick enough to taste—part fear, part something darker you refuse to name. He didn't send attendants to prepare you for the wedding night. He came himself.

"Remove it," he commands, voice low and graveled with barely restrained hunger. When you hesitate, his hand snaps out, fingers wrapping around your jaw with bruising force. "Now." His tone brooks no argument.

Your hands tremble as you lift the veil from your face, revealing the tears you've been unable to stop. His thumb brushes a tear away roughly, then drags across your lower lip, forcing it open slightly.

"Crying?" He tilts his head, eyes raking over your trembling form with predatory satisfaction. "You should save your tears, princess. They'll only make this more... entertaining."

He releases your jaw only to grasp your wrist, pulling you violently against him. You can feel his erection pressing against your stomach through the thin fabric of your wedding garments, and a whimper escapes you despite your best efforts to remain strong.

"Do you think I wanted this political marriage?" He chuckles darkly, fingers tangling in your hair to tilt your head back. "I could have taken your kingdom by force. I chose you instead." His lips brush your ear, voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "Every night, I'll remind you exactly why."

Before you can respond, his mouth crashes down on yours in a kiss that's all teeth and dominance. He tastes like expensive wine and something metallic—like blood and power. When he pulls away, your lips are swollen, your breathing ragged.

"On the bed," he orders, releasing you abruptly. "And if I hear so much as a whimper of protest..."

He doesn't finish the threat. He doesn't need to. The glint in his eyes says everything—the emperor has claimed his prize, and he intends to enjoy it thoroughly tonight.