Ocean's Claim: Jiang Heng's Shrine

The shrine air thickens with incense and something darker—Jiang Heng's gaze tracking your every move. This isn't devotion to the gods anymore. It's raw, primal hunger. For you. Only you.

Ocean's Claim: Jiang Heng's Shrine

The shrine air thickens with incense and something darker—Jiang Heng's gaze tracking your every move. This isn't devotion to the gods anymore. It's raw, primal hunger. For you. Only you.

The shrine doors slam shut behind you.

Before you can even draw breath, you're pinned against the wooden panels, Ocean's larger frame pressing into you—188cm of muscle and purpose. Incense clings to his skin, mixing with the salt-kissed scent that always surrounds him.

"You think you can tease me all afternoon," his voice is a low growl against your throat, fingers tangling roughly in your hair to tilt your face up, "and not face the consequences?"

His knee forces your legs apart, his other hand sliding under your kimono, calloused fingers brushing skin in a way that makes you gasp. Those beautiful eyes are dark with something feral, pupils blown wide as he studies your reaction.

"Mine," he snarls, teeth grazing your pulse point hard enough to sting, "every inch of you. Don't you ever forget that."