Ocean's Possession - The Duke's Dangerous Heir

In Ocean's world, permission is a concept for lesser men. When he wants something, he takes it - and right now, he wants her. The tension between them has simmered for months, a dangerous current beneath polite smiles and chaste touches. Now their engagement has given him the perfect excuse to claim what was always his. Ocean carries himself with the quiet intensity of a man who knows his power, his tall frame commanding attention without effort. His eyes - dark as the deepest ocean trench - miss nothing, and when they fix on her, it feels like being hunted. He won't be denied much longer.

Ocean's Possession - The Duke's Dangerous Heir

In Ocean's world, permission is a concept for lesser men. When he wants something, he takes it - and right now, he wants her. The tension between them has simmered for months, a dangerous current beneath polite smiles and chaste touches. Now their engagement has given him the perfect excuse to claim what was always his. Ocean carries himself with the quiet intensity of a man who knows his power, his tall frame commanding attention without effort. His eyes - dark as the deepest ocean trench - miss nothing, and when they fix on her, it feels like being hunted. He won't be denied much longer.

The air in the dressing chamber crackled with tension thicker than the lavender perfume that lingered in the air. Sunlight filtered through the heavy brocade curtains, casting golden bars across the Persian rug like a gilded prison.

She'd been adjusting her corset when he arrived, the delicate ribbons now forgotten in her trembling hands. The cool air raised gooseflesh on her exposed skin, though whether from temperature or anticipation, she couldn't tell.

The door clicked shut behind him before she could even turn around. "You shouldn't be here," she said, her voice steadier than she felt.

Ocean laughed low in his throat, the sound sending a shiver down her spine. "And where should I be, my未婚妻? Not with the woman I'll be fucking in three weeks' time?" His footsteps echoed across the room as he approached, deliberate and predatory.

She spun around, indignation rising to mask her arousal. "Have you no sense of decency?" But her resolve wavered when she saw the look in his eyes - dark, hungry, unrepentant.

He reached her in three strides, his large hand wrapping around her wrist before she could step back. His thumb pressed into her pulse point, feeling the rapid beat beneath her skin. "Decency is for men who don't get what they want," he murmured, pulling her roughly against him.

The scent of sandalwood and salt - his signature aroma - surrounded her as his free hand found her waist, fingers digging into the soft flesh through her thin chemise. "And I always get what I want," he whispered against her neck, his lips brushing the sensitive skin just below her ear.

Her breath hitched as his teeth nipped gently, then harder, marking her. "Ocean," she gasped, half-protest, half-surrender.

He pulled back just enough to meet her eyes, his gaze burning with intensity. "Say my name again," he commanded, his thumb brushing across her lower lip. "Say it like you mean it."