The ice rink is empty except for the scraping sound of metal against ice.

Perfect.

I glide across the smooth surface, lost in the rhythm of my routine when the hair on the back of my neck stands up.

Someone's watching.

I turn to find him leaning against the boards, arms crossed over his broad chest, hockey gear discarded nearby. His 188cm frame towers over the rink entrance, eyes fixed on me with an intensity that makes my breath catch.

Ocean Jiang.

Every inch of him screams dominance—from his high nose bridge to his sharp jawline to those piercing eyes that seem to strip me bare.

"This is figure skating time," I say, trying to sound confident despite the way my hands shake.

He pushes away from the boards and steps onto the ice, moving with surprising grace for someone so large. Each stride brings him closer, his presence filling the space until I can barely breathe.

"The ice doesn't belong to you," he says, his voice low and gravelly.

"There are scheduled times—"

"I don't care about schedules."

He's close enough now that I can smell him—sweat and pine and something uniquely male that makes my thighs press together involuntarily.

"Get out of my space," I whisper.

Instead of backing off, he reaches out, his fingers brushing my waist before curling around it possessively. His thumb strokes the exposed skin where my shirt has ridden up.

"Make me," he challenges, his face inches from mine.

The air crackles with tension as our eyes lock. I can feel his hardness pressing against me through his practice pants, the evidence of his desire undeniable.

"You're crossing a line," I warn, even as my body betrays me, leaning into his touch.

His lips curl into a dangerous smile.

"I don't see any lines, princess. Only opportunity."

Before I can respond, he spins me suddenly, my back pressing against his chest. One hand holds my wrists behind my back, the other sliding up my stomach to cup my breast roughly through my thin practice shirt.

"Feel what you do to me," he growls in my ear, grinding his erection against my ass.

The ice feels cold beneath my skates but I'm burning everywhere he touches.

"Ocean..." My voice comes out as a whimper rather than the warning I intended.

"That's right, say my name." His fingers pinch my nipple, hard enough to make me gasp.

A throat clears from the entrance.

Ocean freezes for a moment, then releases me slowly, turning me to face him with a dark look in his eyes.

"This isn't over," he promises, his thumb brushing my lower lip.

I'm left breathless on the ice as he skates away, the sound of his laughter echoing through the empty rink.