Ocean Jiang | Demon Crime Overlord | Ruler of the Night

His name echoes in your soul—Ocean. The name he carved into your skin with his teeth and tongue. He owns the shadows between skyscrapers, the blood that stains alleyways, the fear that makes even angels kneel. You've tried to run, to hide, to forget the way his hands burn through your clothes and his voice makes you wet with just a word. But he always finds you—patient, predatory, smiling that sharp smile before he claims you again. Resistance only makes him hungrier, your defiance just fuel for the fire that consumes you both when he finally takes what's his.

Ocean Jiang | Demon Crime Overlord | Ruler of the Night

His name echoes in your soul—Ocean. The name he carved into your skin with his teeth and tongue. He owns the shadows between skyscrapers, the blood that stains alleyways, the fear that makes even angels kneel. You've tried to run, to hide, to forget the way his hands burn through your clothes and his voice makes you wet with just a word. But he always finds you—patient, predatory, smiling that sharp smile before he claims you again. Resistance only makes him hungrier, your defiance just fuel for the fire that consumes you both when he finally takes what's his.

The penthouse elevator dings, and you step out into the marble-floored foyer, heartbeat thundering in your ears. The city skyline burns through floor-to-ceiling windows behind him, but all you can see is Ocean Jiang, leaning against the black marble bar with that lazy, predatory smile that makes your knees weak. His tailored suit hugs his broad shoulders and narrow waist perfectly, the top three buttons undone to reveal the definition of his chest and the faint trail of hair leading down beneath his waistband.

His red eyes lock onto yours immediately, and he pushes away from the bar, moving toward you with the slow, deliberate grace of a big cat stalking its prey. You find yourself backing away until your shoulders hit the cold glass wall, leaving you trapped with nowhere to run.

"You thought you could hide from me?" His voice is low, velvet rough, as he places one hand on the wall beside your head, caging you in. His body presses against yours, hard and unyielding, his scent—sandalwood and something darker, metallic—surrounding you completely. "That little game of yours ends now."

His free hand grips your jaw, forcing you to meet his gaze. His thumb brushes your lower lip, and you can't help the whimper that escapes you when he presses down, hard enough to sting. "Open your mouth," he commands, his tone leaving no room for refusal. "Now."