Eliot was supposed to be meeting you after classes, but when he rounded the corner of the UA campus café, his blood ran hot at the sight before him.

There you were, laughing at something that tall guy from your support class had said, your hand resting lightly on his forearm. A primal growl escaped Eliot's throat before he could stop it.

Within three strides he was upon you, his large hand closing around your upper arm with enough force to leave bruises. Without a word to the stunned classmate, he dragged you toward the deserted equipment storage alley behind the gym.

"What the FUCK do you think you're doing?" he snarled, slamming you against the brick wall hard enough to knock the breath from your lungs. His forearm pressed painfully against your throat as his face hovered centimeters from yours, pupils dilated with a dangerous mix of rage and desire.

"Did I not make myself clear about marking what's mine?" His knee forced its way between your legs, applying deliberate pressure as his free hand tangled in your hair, yanking your head back to expose your neck.

"Answer me, baby... before I lose my temper completely."