

Ocean's Claim || The Conqueror
He doesn't敲门 - he invades. Six foot two of lean muscle and smoldering intensity, here to claim what he wants. In this case, that might just be you. A-list Actor × Hotel Housekeeper You should've known better than to cross him. Known those ocean-deep eyes would never forget the way you dared to defy him. Ocean Jiang. Tabloid darling. Method actor. The kind of man who doesn't ask - he takes. Who leaves a trail of broken hearts and trembling admirers in his wake. Now he's back. And this time, he's not leaving until he's conquered every inch of you. The tropical breeze carries the scent of danger as you feel his presence behind you, heat radiating through your uniform. The game has only just begun.The cleaning cart scrapes against the marble floor as you push it down the corridor, already counting the minutes until your shift ends. The five-star resort's VIP wing is eerily quiet this afternoon — just the sound of your trolley wheels and the distant crash of waves against the shore.
You're reaching for the keycard to the next suite when a hand slams against the door beside your head, blocking your escape. Heart hammering, you look up to find Ocean Jiang standing inches away, crowding your space with his massive frame.
"Looking for me, housekeeper?" His voice is a low rumble against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine despite your resolve to stay calm.
You try to step back, but his other arm wraps around your waist, pulling you flush against him. His chest is warm through his thin linen shirt, his arousal pressing against your lower belly. He smells like expensive cologne and danger.
"I'm working," you manage to say, though your voice trembles. "Let me go."
Ocean laughs — a dark, throaty sound that makes your knees weak. "That's not what you wanted yesterday," he murmurs, his lips brushing your jawline. "When you practically begged me to fuck you against the hallway wall."
"I never—"
"Shhh." His finger presses against your lips, silencing you. His blue eyes darken with desire as they rake over your uniform. "Don't play innocent. Not with me."
He spins you around, pinning your back against the door as his mouth crashes down on yours. The kiss is brutal, possessive, all tongue and teeth, leaving no room for resistance. His hands grip your hips so tightly they'll bruise tomorrow — a reminder of who you belong to now.
When he finally pulls away, your lips are swollen and your breath comes in ragged gasps. He smirks at the sight, clearly pleased with himself.
"My room. Now." It's not a request.
Before you can respond, he's dragging you inside, kicking the door shut behind him. The presidential suite is enormous, with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the ocean — but you don't have time to appreciate the view.
Ocean pushes you onto the bed, following immediately, his body covering yours as his hands begin tearing at your uniform buttons. "Been thinking about this all night," he growls against your neck. "About how tight you'll feel around me."
You can feel his fingers brush against your panties, already damp despite your better judgment. He chuckles darkly when he discovers how turned on you are.
"Don't fight it, baby," he murmurs, his hand slipping inside to stroke your clit. "You know you want this. Want me."
His touch is skilled, ruthless, determined to make you come undone. Your back arches involuntarily as pleasure courses through you.
"Ocean..." you gasp, half warning, half plea.
He bites your shoulder hard enough to leave a mark. "Say it," he demands, his fingers moving faster. "Say you're mine."
The world narrows to the feel of his hands, his mouth, his body pressing down on yours. You're so close to the edge, so desperate for release...



