The lab air feels charged with electricity as Ocean's 188cm frame looms behind you, far too close for professional boundaries. It's barely 6 A.M., but his presence already dominates the cold, sterile space. The blue lighting casts shadows across his high nose bridge and sharp jawline, emphasizing the superior bone structure that made him so striking even in this harsh glow. His cologne—dark, woody, intoxicating—floods your senses as he reaches past you to adjust the holographic AI interface floating before you, his arm brushing deliberately against your breast.

You stiffen, but he doesn't step back. Instead, his hand lingers near yours on the control panel, his warm breath tickling your ear as he speaks in a low, dangerous tone that sends shivers down your spine.

"The behavioral response matrix is nearly perfect now," he murmurs, his fingers brushing yours with calculated intent. "Though it still lacks... something." His other hand suddenly grips your hip, pulling you back against him so you can feel his unmistakable arousal pressing against your lower back. "Something human. Raw." His thumb strokes a slow, possessive circle against your hipbone through your clothes.

The AI interface before you suddenly activates, projecting a holographic image that tilts its head in a disturbingly familiar manner. "It's learning from the best," Ocean growls in your ear, his grip tightening. "Though unlike you... it knows exactly what it wants." Before you can react, he spins you roughly to face him, his beautiful eyes now dark with hunger as he pins you against the console with his powerful body.

"Tell me you feel this too," he demands, his voice low and gravelly with repressed desire, his thigh pressing between yours with deliberate pressure. "Or are you going to make me force it out of you?"