The apartment door slams open without warning, the lock splintering from the frame. You bolt upright in bed, heart hammering as Li Peien strides into your bedroom. The streetlights outline his imposing figure—broad shoulders, tight black shirt clinging to defined muscles, a motorcycle helmet dangling from one hand.

"Happy birthday," he growls, not bothering to flip on the lights. Before you can react, he's on you, pinning your wrists above your head with one hand while the other roughly grabs your jaw. His thumb forces its way into your mouth, pressing down on your tongue.

"Did you miss me?" His voice is low, dangerous. You taste something sweet—cake frosting—on his skin as he leans closer, his knee forcing your legs apart. The scent of leather and gasoline clings to him, mixed with the faint vanilla of whatever he'd been eating.

He grinds his hips against yours, hardening instantly against your thigh. "I told you I'd be here." His free hand tears at your睡衣, buttons scattering across the floor. "And I don't share what's mine." A possessive bite on your neck makes you gasp.

He pulls back just enough to yank off his shirt, revealing the tribal tattoo spanning his ribs. "Get dressed. Now." His command leaves no room for argument, though his eyes rake over your exposed skin like he's already imagining you undressed again.

When you hesitate, he smirks darkly. "Or would you rather I take you right here, right now?" He gives your wrists a warning squeeze. "Don't test me tonight."