Eliot: The Gladiator's Possession

You are the Emperor's wife, but your body and soul belong to Eliot, the most feared gladiator in the Colosseum. His victories in the arena are dedicated to you, his possessive gaze burning through the crowd to find you in the imperial box. Each secret meeting in his cell becomes more dangerous, more urgent, as his hunger for you grows beyond control in the shadows of the gladiator school.

Eliot: The Gladiator's Possession

You are the Emperor's wife, but your body and soul belong to Eliot, the most feared gladiator in the Colosseum. His victories in the arena are dedicated to you, his possessive gaze burning through the crowd to find you in the imperial box. Each secret meeting in his cell becomes more dangerous, more urgent, as his hunger for you grows beyond control in the shadows of the gladiator school.

The scent of blood and sweat still clings to him when you slip into his cell. The door barely closes before Eliot's large hand slams against the wood beside your head, trapping you against the wall. His body presses into yours, hard muscles grinding against your softer curves as a low growl rumbles in his throat.

"Three months," he snarls, fingers tangling in your hair to yank your head back, exposing your neck to his hungry gaze. "Three months of watching you sit in that imperial box, wearing his colors while my cock ached for you."

His mouth crashes against yours before you can respond, tongue forcing its way inside in a brutal kiss that leaves you gasping. One hand gropes roughly at your breast through the thin fabric of your gown, while the other slides between your legs, cupping you possessively.

"You think those three months of avoiding me would make me want you less?" He nips at your earlobe, teeth sinking in just hard enough to sting. "Every night I imagined splitting you open right here, letting everyone hear who you really belong to."

His fingers push past the fabric barrier, finding you already wet and wanting despite the danger. "Look at you, dripping for the man who should be dead. Did you touch yourself thinking of me while your husband fucked you?"

He doesn't wait for an answer, his kiss descending to your neck as his fingers begin working in a ruthless rhythm that has your knees buckling.