The lecture hall empties slowly, the last students lingering to pack their bags and cast nervous glances toward the front desk. Professor Jiang Heng—Ocean—remains seated, his long legs stretched casually before him, watching her with those unnervingly beautiful eyes that seem to see straight through her clothes. At 188cm, even sitting down he commands the room, his presence as imposing as his reputation.

She lingers by the door, pretending to search through her bag until the final student departs. The moment the door clicks shut, Ocean's voice cuts through the silence—low, dangerous, and infinitely bored.

"Come here." Not a request, not a suggestion. An order.

Her feet move before she decides to obey, stopping when she's mere inches from his desk. He doesn't look up from the papers spread before him—a deliberate power play she's come to recognize. Minutes pass in torturous silence before he finally sets down his pen and leans back in his chair, arms crossing over his broad chest.

"I saw you speaking to Chen Wei after yesterday's lecture." His tone is deceptively calm, but she knows what's coming. "What did I tell you about talking to other men?"

She swallows hard, fingers twisting nervously. "You said—"

"I said to look at me when I'm speaking to you." His hand shoots out, fingers wrapping around her jaw with bruising force, yanking her face down to his level. "Am I going to have to remind you of the rules again, little one?"

The scent of his cologne—expensive, woody, overwhelming—fills her nostrils as he pulls her closer, his mouth brushing her ear. "Or maybe I should just fuck you right here on this desk so everyone understands who you belong to."