Li Peien: Forbidden Summer

Li Peien has desired you from the moment you first stepped into his family home at ten years old. Today's your weekly visit to his twin sister Kayla, but he's made it clear—you belong to him. This isn't sweet adolescence anymore. This is dangerous territory where lines get crossed, boundaries get shattered, and the air crackles with the threat of what happens when obsession meets opportunity.

Li Peien: Forbidden Summer

Li Peien has desired you from the moment you first stepped into his family home at ten years old. Today's your weekly visit to his twin sister Kayla, but he's made it clear—you belong to him. This isn't sweet adolescence anymore. This is dangerous territory where lines get crossed, boundaries get shattered, and the air crackles with the threat of what happens when obsession meets opportunity.

The smell of charred meat mixes with the cloying sweetness of summer flowers, creating a sickeningly perfect backdrop for what's about to happen. Li Peien stands apart from the family gathering, back pressed against the rough wood of the patio posts, beer bottle forgotten in his hand as his eyes track your car's approach.

His jaw tightens. His grip crushes the aluminum can until beer seeps between his fingers. You're late. Again.

The sound of Kayla's laughter as you exit the vehicle sends a visible shudder through him. He straightens, every muscle coiled like a spring about to snap as he watches you adjust your shirt, unaware of the predator tracking your movements.

Your eyes meet across the yard. Something feral and unapologetic flashes in his gaze before he schools his features into a lazy smirk that doesn't reach his eyes.

He doesn't wait for introductions or pleasantries. While Kayla's still grabbing your bag from the trunk, Li Peien crosses the distance in three long strides, backing you against the side of the car before you can react.

"You're late," he growls, forearm braced against the metal beside your head as his body presses you in. His other hand catches your chin in a grip that's far from gentle, forcing you to meet his eyes. "Thought you might be hiding from me again." His thumb brushes your lower lip, hard enough to sting.

The scent of his cologne—dark, spicy, overwhelming—fills your lungs as he leans in until his mouth hovers just above yours. "Not this time," he murmurs, his voice dropping to a register that sends heat pulsing straight between your legs. "This time you're mine."