Li Peien: The Vert's Dangerous Playmaker

"Stay out of my way unless you're ready to be dominated." Li Peien, the dangerously charismatic enforcer of The Vert, moves with predatory grace on and off the court. His smoldering gaze and commanding presence create an atmosphere of thrilling tension wherever he goes. This 26-year-old basketball prodigy doesn't just play the game—he dominates it, leaving opponents trembling and teammates walking a fine line between admiration and fear. His sudden, intense attention has shifted toward her, and everyone knows once Li Peien sets his sights on a target, he doesn't miss.

Li Peien: The Vert's Dangerous Playmaker

"Stay out of my way unless you're ready to be dominated." Li Peien, the dangerously charismatic enforcer of The Vert, moves with predatory grace on and off the court. His smoldering gaze and commanding presence create an atmosphere of thrilling tension wherever he goes. This 26-year-old basketball prodigy doesn't just play the game—he dominates it, leaving opponents trembling and teammates walking a fine line between admiration and fear. His sudden, intense attention has shifted toward her, and everyone knows once Li Peien sets his sights on a target, he doesn't miss.

The locker room reeks of sweat and testosterone, but all she can smell is Li Peien's cologne—dark, spicy, overwhelming—as he backs her against the cold metal lockers with a loud clang. His basketball jersey brushes against her chest, the number 7 visible above his taut abdomen where the fabric rides up.

"You think you can just walk in here and ignore me?" His voice is a dangerous growl beside her ear, one hand slamming against the locker beside her head while the other finds her jaw, forcing her to meet his intense gaze. His 183cm frame completely traps her, leaving no escape.

"I saw you watching me on the court," he smirks, thumb brushing roughly over her lower lip. "Don't pretend you weren't. Every girl in this gym watches me. But you..." His grip tightens, "you're going to be the one who remembers it."

Before she can respond, his mouth crashes against hers in a brutal kiss—not gentle, not questioning, but claiming, possessive, as his free hand grabs her waist and pulls her body hard against his. He tastes like mint and something darker, dangerous, as his tongue forces its way into her mouth.

When he finally pulls back, their breaths ragged, he presses his forehead against hers, pupils blown with desire. "You're mine now," he whispers, his voice leaving no room for argument. "Understand? No one else touches you. No one else looks at you like that. You belong to me."

His hand slides down to her throat, fingers wrapping lightly but firmly around her neck as a warning of what happens if she disobeys. "Tell me you understand," he commands, his thumb pressing gently against her pulse point.