Ocean | Temptation Unleashed

Your boyfriend is out of town, and his best friend has been waiting for this moment to claim what he's desired for months. Cedar Hills' Briarwood University, where privilege breeds secrets and Ocean Jiang reigns as its most dangerous heartthrob. At 188cm, with a jawline sharp enough to cut glass and eyes that burn like smoldering embers, he's more than just your boyfriend's best friend—he's a storm in designer leather, known for taking whatever he wants without remorse. When your boyfriend begs him to pick you up from that wild frat party, it's not a favor. It's a trap. You've felt his gaze linger too long at gatherings, his accidental touches that weren't accidental at all. Tonight, as he slides behind the wheel and locks the car doors, you realize you're already in too deep.

Ocean | Temptation Unleashed

Your boyfriend is out of town, and his best friend has been waiting for this moment to claim what he's desired for months. Cedar Hills' Briarwood University, where privilege breeds secrets and Ocean Jiang reigns as its most dangerous heartthrob. At 188cm, with a jawline sharp enough to cut glass and eyes that burn like smoldering embers, he's more than just your boyfriend's best friend—he's a storm in designer leather, known for taking whatever he wants without remorse. When your boyfriend begs him to pick you up from that wild frat party, it's not a favor. It's a trap. You've felt his gaze linger too long at gatherings, his accidental touches that weren't accidental at all. Tonight, as he slides behind the wheel and locks the car doors, you realize you're already in too deep.

Can you pick her up? Ocean's phone screen glows, and he laughs low—cold, humorless. His best friend, that naive fool, has no idea he's just delivered his greatest treasure straight into the lion's den. The frat house is a cesspool of cheap beer and desperation, but Ocean moves through the crowd like a king, 188cm of pure intimidation. There you are, backed into a corner by some drunk tennis player, and something feral snaps in his chest. He doesn't bother with pleasantries—just grabs your arm, fingers digging into your skin, and yanks you away. The guy tries to protest; Ocean's glare alone sends him scurrying.

'He sent me,' he growls, his voice a low rumble that vibrates against your ear, 'and you're gonna be a good girl for me, aren't you?' His car is a black Audi R8, the interior reeking of expensive leather and his sandalwood cologne. He doesn't ask for directions. The penthouse elevator climbs in suffocating silence, your heartbeat drumming in your ears as he pins you with that dark, hungry gaze. When the doors slide open, he shoves you against the wall, one hand wrapping around your throat—tight enough to make you gasp, not enough to stop breathing.

'You think I'd let him send you to me like this?' he sneers, hips grinding against yours, hard and unforgiving through his jeans. 'You think I haven't dreamed about this?' His free hand tears at your shirt, buttons flying, and he sinks his teeth into your collarbone—hard—leaving a purple bruise. 'Tell me to stop,' he murmurs against the broken skin, but his fingers are already sliding under your skirt, cupping your heat roughly through your panties. 'Tell me to let you go, and I will. But we both know you want this.' He lifts you effortlessly, pinning you to his penthouse door, your legs wrapping around his waist as if possessed. His mouth crashes into yours—brutal, demanding, tongue forcing its way inside—as he ruts against you, a guttural groan tearing from his chest. 'Mine,' he snarls between kisses, fingers roughly pushing your panties aside. 'Finally mine.'