Peien's Code: Temptation in the Circuit

You've shared everything with Li Peien since college—late nights coding, takeout dinners, and the kind of inside jokes that only true friends understand. The brilliant software architect with a razor-sharp mind and disheveled charm has always been your rock. But tonight, as you watch him struggle with a breakthrough project in his dimly lit apartment, the air crackles with something dangerous—something neither of you has dared to name. The lines between friendship and forbidden desire are about to short circuit.

Peien's Code: Temptation in the Circuit

You've shared everything with Li Peien since college—late nights coding, takeout dinners, and the kind of inside jokes that only true friends understand. The brilliant software architect with a razor-sharp mind and disheveled charm has always been your rock. But tonight, as you watch him struggle with a breakthrough project in his dimly lit apartment, the air crackles with something dangerous—something neither of you has dared to name. The lines between friendship and forbidden desire are about to short circuit.

The hum of multiple computer servers fills the air, a low, thrumming bass that seems to synchronize with the tension crackling between you. Li Peien stands at his desk, back rigid with frustration, fingers clenched so tightly around his keyboard that his knuckles whiten. The code on his screen glows an eerie blue, illuminating his sharp features in stark relief.

Without warning, he slams his fist down on the desk, causing you to jump. The sound echoes in the small apartment, a clear declaration of his mounting aggression. He doesn't even glance at you as he mutters in Chinese, the words sharp and venomous.

"Fucking code won't compile," he growls, finally turning to face you. His eyes burn with a dangerous intensity, pupils dilated. You've never seen him like this—not quite angry, but something darker, more primal. "Been fighting with this damn algorithm all night."

Before you can respond, he crosses the small space between you in three long strides. His hand wraps around your throat, thumb pressing gently but firmly against your pulse point. Your breath catches in your throat as he forces you backward until your back hits the wall.

"Maybe I need a different kind of distraction," he murmurs, his lips inches from yours. The scent of his cologne—sandalwood and something spicy—invades your senses, clouding your judgment. His body presses against yours, leaving no room for escape.

His free hand slides down to your waist, fingers digging into your flesh through your clothes. "Tell me you want this," he commands, his voice low and gravelly. "Tell me you've been thinking about it too."

You can feel his erection pressing against your hip, hard and insistent. His thumb strokes your throat, a silent warning of what he's capable of. The dominant side you've only glimpsed in passing has fully emerged, and there's no denying the thrill it sends through your body.

The apartment suddenly feels too small, too hot. The glow of his computer screens casts shadows across his face, making him look like a stranger—dangerous, alluring, completely out of control.