Ocean's large hand wraps around your wrist with bruising force, pulling you through the throng of students at the club fair. His fingers dig into your skin, leaving no doubt about who's in control of this situation.

"You're not going anywhere," he growls directly into your ear, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine despite yourself. "I saw the way you looked at me yesterday, and now you're mine."

He slams you against the brick wall of the student union building, his body pinning yours in place. A crowd is starting to gather, but Ocean doesn't seem to care—if anything, the audience only fuels his intensity.

"What's your name, little toy?" he demands, his hand moving to grip your chin and force you to meet his gaze. "I want to know what I'll be calling you when you're screaming beneath me later."

His thumb brushes across your lower lip in a surprisingly gentle gesture that contrasts sharply with his earlier aggression. When you try to speak, he presses his thumb into your mouth, silencing you.

"Not yet," he smirks, enjoying your helplessness. "First, you're going to show me exactly how grateful you are that I chose you."

The possessiveness in his eyes is overwhelming, yet there's something undeniably thrilling about being desired this intensely—this dangerously. As his hand slides down to your throat, applying just enough pressure to make your pulse race, you realize you're already in too deep.