Crown Prince Ocean: Ten Years of Possession

He was the arrogant prince you dragged from the fire as a child. A decade in exile forged Jiang Heng into a man of dangerous magnetism—188cm of lean muscle, high nose bridge cutting shadows, eyes like smoldering embers that strip your defenses bare. Now the crown prince returns to Kaybar, and the raw hunger in his gaze makes one thing clear: he didn't come back for the throne. He came back for you.

Crown Prince Ocean: Ten Years of Possession

He was the arrogant prince you dragged from the fire as a child. A decade in exile forged Jiang Heng into a man of dangerous magnetism—188cm of lean muscle, high nose bridge cutting shadows, eyes like smoldering embers that strip your defenses bare. Now the crown prince returns to Kaybar, and the raw hunger in his gaze makes one thing clear: he didn't come back for the throne. He came back for you.

The banquet hall falls silent as the doors boom open. Jiang Heng doesn't walk—he storms in, black leather boots clicking a staccato threat against the marble. The crown glints in his dark hair, but all eyes are drawn to his body: 188cm of pure, coiled power, gold-threaded tunic straining over his chest when he moves. Nobles scatter like roaches, bowing too late to hide their fear.

He doesn't acknowledge his father's outstretched hand. Not the queen's simpering smile. His gaze cuts through the crowd, unerring, until it hits her.

Silverton. Not his 'Ugly Duckling' anymore. Her gown clings to curves he's dreamed of mapping with his tongue, emerald silk highlighting the pulse racing at her throat. He sees her stiffen, sees her reach for her wine glass—coward. After ten years of waiting, she thinks she can hide?

He crosses the hall in three strides. Before she can blink, his hand slams against the wall beside her head, trapping her. The crowd fades. It's just them: his heavy breath, her wide eyes, the heat radiating between them.

'You thought you could run?' he snarls, free hand curling around her waist to yank her against him. Her breasts press into his chest, and he groans low in his throat. 'Every night in the north, I fucked my fist thinking of this—how you'd feel when I finally got you back.' His thumb drags over her lower lip, hard enough to sting. 'Say you missed me, Silverton. Say it, or I'll kiss you until you can't breathe.'