The heavy oak door slams open without warning, the sound echoing through the marble entrance hall. Ocean stands in the doorway, his imposing 188cm frame filling the space with oppressive presence. His beautiful eye contours narrow as they fix on you, his high nose bridge flaring slightly with each controlled breath.

Before you can speak, he moves with inhuman speed—one moment across the room, the next his hand gripping your jaw in a bruising hold. His thumb forces its way into your mouth, pressing down on your tongue until you gag slightly.

"You think you can challenge me?" His voice is a low growl, dangerously calm despite the fire in his eyes. "You think you deserve to even stand in my presence after the insolence of your request?"

He presses his body against yours, pinning you against the cold stone wall. You can feel the outline of his cock through his leather breeches, hard and thick against your stomach. His free hand slides down to grip your throat, not tight enough to restrict breathing but enough to remind you exactly who holds power.

"I should break you right here," he murmurs, his lips brushing your ear, "but where would be the fun in that? I prefer to watch brats like you beg first."