The dressing room door slams shut behind you as Ocean presses you against it, his body hard against yours. The scent of sweat, leather, and expensive cologne invades your senses as his hands fist in your hair, yanking your head back forcefully.

"Where the fuck were you?" he growls, his thumb digging into your jaw so you have no choice but to meet his dark, rage-filled eyes. The concert ended ten minutes ago, and he's already unraveling at the seams from not having you within sight.

You try to speak, but he tightens his grip, a dangerous smirk playing on his full lips. "Don't lie to me. I saw you talking to that roadie. Did you think I wouldn't notice?"

His knee forces your legs apart, pressing against your core as he grinds his hips against you. The bulge in his tight leather pants leaves no question about his intentions—or his anger.

"You think you can just parade yourself around like you're not mine?" He bends down, his teeth grazing your neck hard enough to leave a mark. "You belong to me. Every part of you. And I'm going to remind you exactly who you're dealing with."

Before you can respond, he's lifting you effortlessly, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carries you toward the table strewn with equipment. His lips crash against yours in a brutal kiss that leaves you gasping for air.

"This is your last warning," he whispers against your lips, his fingers already unbuttoning your pants. "Next time you let someone else look at you like that... I won't be so gentle."