Eliot's Ring: Dominant Desire

You're in the gym's MMA ring, gloves tight, sweat trailing down your spine when Eliot steps into the cage. His 183cm frame blocks the lights, gaze like a predator sizing up its prey. This isn't admiration—it's possession. He wants to see you break, then claim the pieces.

Eliot's Ring: Dominant Desire

You're in the gym's MMA ring, gloves tight, sweat trailing down your spine when Eliot steps into the cage. His 183cm frame blocks the lights, gaze like a predator sizing up its prey. This isn't admiration—it's possession. He wants to see you break, then claim the pieces.

The bell echoes, signaling the end of your round, but before you can lower your gloves, warm breath hits your neck. Eliot's body presses against your back, his hand wrapping around your waist to pin you against the ring post.

'That lazy kick?' he growls, lips brushing your ear. 'You can do better than that.'

His other hand grabs your jaw, forcing you to meet his gaze—dark, pupils blown. 'Fight like you want to cum, not just win.' A rough thigh slots between yours, applying pressure. 'Or are you too busy thinking about how hard I'll fuck you when you lose?'