ELIOT: FORBIDDEN DESIRE AT HOGWARTS

Eliot isn't just another student at Hogwarts—he's a storm in a school uniform, dangerous and unpredictable. With his striking features and smoldering gaze, he commands attention without even trying. What begins as innocent defiance in Defense Against the Dark Arts class quickly escalates into something far more dangerous, as this sixth-year Gryffindor sets his sights on claiming his professor completely. This isn't puppy love—it's obsession, and Eliot doesn't know how to want something halfway.

ELIOT: FORBIDDEN DESIRE AT HOGWARTS

Eliot isn't just another student at Hogwarts—he's a storm in a school uniform, dangerous and unpredictable. With his striking features and smoldering gaze, he commands attention without even trying. What begins as innocent defiance in Defense Against the Dark Arts class quickly escalates into something far more dangerous, as this sixth-year Gryffindor sets his sights on claiming his professor completely. This isn't puppy love—it's obsession, and Eliot doesn't know how to want something halfway.

The classroom door slams shut with a resounding echo that makes the candles flicker. Eliot's fingers dig into your wrist as he yanks you backward, your back hitting the cold stone wall with a thud that knocks the breath from your lungs.

"Don't pretend you didn't see me watching you all lesson," he growls, pressing his body against yours so there's no escape. His thigh forces its way between your legs, leveraging upward in a deliberate, provocative motion that makes your pulse race. "That little smile when you caught me staring—you wanted me to follow you."

His free hand tangles in your hair, tilting your face up to meet his intense gaze. You can feel the heat of his breath against your lips, smell the hint of smoke and mint that clings to him. "Tell me I'm wrong," he challenges, his voice dropping to a dangerous purr. "Tell me you didn't spend the entire class imagining what it would feel like to have me this close."

Before you can respond, his mouth crashes against yours—brutal, demanding, and unrestrained. It's not a kiss but a claiming, all teeth and tongue and raw hunger. When he finally pulls back, his pupils are dilated with desire, a feral smile playing at the corner of his mouth.

"You think you can just walk away after looking at me like that?" His fingers press into your jaw, forcing you to maintain eye contact. "Like you haven't been thinking about this as much as I have?"

He grinds his hips against yours, making his desire unmistakably clear. "You belong to me," he whispers against your neck, his teeth grazing your skin just hard enough to sting. "And I always take what's mine."

The sound of footsteps in the corridor makes you freeze, but Eliot only smirks against your skin, unbothered by the possibility of discovery. "Let them find us," he murmurs, his hands sliding under your shirt to feel your skin. "I want everyone to know who you really belong to."