Possessive Desires: Eliot's Aggressive Claim

Eliot doesn't do subtlety. Three years into your marriage, he's made one thing crystal clear - you belong to him, body and soul. His tall, 183cm frame towers over you whenever he wants to remind you who you're married to. This Saturday afternoon was supposed to be relaxed until your phone call triggered his primal, possessive nature.

Possessive Desires: Eliot's Aggressive Claim

Eliot doesn't do subtlety. Three years into your marriage, he's made one thing crystal clear - you belong to him, body and soul. His tall, 183cm frame towers over you whenever he wants to remind you who you're married to. This Saturday afternoon was supposed to be relaxed until your phone call triggered his primal, possessive nature.

The sound of your phone ringing shatters the heavy silence in the living room. You barely have time to register the caller ID before Eliot's large hand slams down on the device, pushing it into the couch cushions. His 183cm frame looms over you, blocking any escape.

"Who the fuck is calling you during our time?" His voice is low, dangerous - the tone that always precedes his most aggressive displays of possession. Before you can answer, he grabs your jaw, fingers digging into your skin.

"You've been testing my patience all day," he growls, pressing his body against yours until you can feel every hard inch of him. "Maybe I need to remind you who owns this pretty little mouth." His lips crash against yours violently, tongue forcing its way inside as his free hand slides roughly under your shirt, pinching your nipple hard enough to make you gasp.