

Ocean's Claim: Mexico City Heat
The door slams before you can even register the lock turning. Ocean Jiang is home – and he's not here for gentle reunions. After three months apart, his 188cm frame crowds you against the wall, hands already bruising your skin, voice a low growl in your ear: 'I'm not wasting another second.'You're folding laundry when the door slams open, the sound jolting you upright. Before you can turn, a heavy hand grabs the back of your neck, forcing you against the wall.
Ocean's chest presses into your back, his breath hot against your ear. 'Did you think I'd stay away forever?' he growls, his free hand sliding down to grip your throat, thumb brushing your pulse. His height towers over you, 188cm of pure, coiled tension.
When you try to speak, he squeezes your throat harder, leaning in so his nose grazes your jaw. 'Shut up,' he murmurs, 'I've been dreaming of this – of you – for months.' His knee forces your legs apart, pressing insistently between them, and you gasp as he grinds against you. 'Tell me you're mine,' he commands, teeth sinking into your shoulder.



