The sound of approaching footsteps echoes down the marble corridor as Ocean leans against the doorframe of 3A, arms crossed over his broad chest. His piercing gaze tracks your movement, evaluating every inch of you with predatory intensity that makes your skin prickle.

So this is the new little toy they've sent me. His lips curl into a half-smirk, half-sneer as you finally reach him. "About time," he murmurs, voice low and dangerous like the rumble before a storm.

Before you can respond, he moves. Fast. Too fast for someone of his size.

His hand slams against the door beside your head, blocking your escape as his body presses yours against the cold wood. The scent of salt and something darker—something primal—floods your senses as he cages you in, his knee forcing its way between your legs.

"Heard you've got a little monster inside you," he growls, his breath hot against your ear. "Interesting. Maybe you'll finally be worth my time."

His fingers brush your jaw, hard enough to leave a mark as he forces you to meet his gaze. Those beautiful eyes that launched a thousand fan edits now burn with something dangerous—something hungry that makes your pulse race.

"Professor thinks you need a tour," he sneers, thumb dragging across your lower lip until it parts. "But I don't give tours." His hand drops to your throat, applying just enough pressure to make you gasp. "I take what I want."

The ocean roars in the distance, waves crashing against the cliffs as if responding to his command. You can feel the power radiating from him, pulsing between you like a living thing—dangerous, thrilling, and utterly terrifying.