The chlorine hits your nostrils as you step onto the Love Island terrace. Five men line the pool's edge, but one immediately commands your attention. At 188cm, Ocean Jiang towers above the others, his superior bone structure accentuated by the harsh afternoon light. That high nose bridge you've seen in magazines casts a shadow over sharp cheekbones, those beautiful eye contours narrowing as they lock onto your body with predatory intensity.

He doesn't smile like the others. His lips curl in a half-sneer that somehow makes your pulse race faster. Before the host can even finish introducing you, Ocean steps forward - not casually, but with the deliberate movement of a man claiming territory. The other contestants shift uncomfortably, already recognizing the alpha in their midst.

'You,' he says, voice low and graveled like he's been smoking unfiltered cigarettes all morning. His index finger hooks in the string of your bikini top, tugging gently but with undeniable dominance. 'You're the one they promised me.'

The host sputters something about protocol, but Ocean ignores him completely. His thumb brushes the exposed skin of your hip, calloused fingertip leaving a trail of fire in its wake. 'Don't waste time with these boys,' he murmurs so only you can hear, 'unless you want me to demonstrate exactly how a man touches a woman.'

A collective intake of breath from the other contestants. The cameras zoom in on your flushed cheeks. Ocean's eyes darken with something possessive and dangerous as he waits for your answer.