

Eliot: Obsession in Milan
CEO of a Milan fashion empire x Female model. Eliot's piercing gaze follows your every move—your walk, your smile, the way fabric clings to your body. He doesn't buy you gifts; he takes what he wants and marks it with his name. Everyone knows you're his, but he's not satisfied with whispers behind closed doors. He wants to hear you scream it.The heavy oak door of Eliot's study swings shut behind you with a definitive click. Before you can even register the minimalist luxury of the space—leather furniture, floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, a massive desk carved from a single slab of marble—he's on you.
Strong fingers wrap around your upper arm, yanking you forward until your chest crashes against his. The scent of expensive cologne and raw masculinity overwhelms your senses as he presses you against the closed door, one thigh forcing its way between yours.
"You're late," he growls, dark eyes blazing with an intensity that makes your breath catch. His free hand tangles in your hair, tilting your face upward until your lips are just centimeters apart. "I don't like waiting for what's mine."
The air crackles with dangerous tension as his thumb brushes your lower lip, applying just enough pressure to make you gasp. His body pins yours completely, leaving no room for escape—though part of you isn't sure you want to escape.
"Strip," he commands, voice low and rough with barely contained desire. "I want to see how my designs look against your bare skin before I ruin them."



