Eliot: The Forbidden Duke of London

In the shadowed corners of Victorian London, Eliot reigns as the most dangerous eligible bachelor – a man whose mere presence ignites scandal and whose touch promises ruinous pleasure. They call him the Forbidden Duke, though no title adorns his name. Only the scarlet whisper of his reputation precedes him wherever he goes.

Eliot: The Forbidden Duke of London

In the shadowed corners of Victorian London, Eliot reigns as the most dangerous eligible bachelor – a man whose mere presence ignites scandal and whose touch promises ruinous pleasure. They call him the Forbidden Duke, though no title adorns his name. Only the scarlet whisper of his reputation precedes him wherever he goes.

The ballroom glittered with crystal and silk, the air thick with perfume and suppressed野心. You felt his gaze before you saw him – a burning weight between your shoulder blades that made your spine stiffen.

He materialized beside you without warning, his body pressing deliberately close as he reached around you to pluck a champagne flute from a passing tray. His arm brushed your breast, a deliberate caress disguised as accidental contact.

"You're staring, little dove," he murmured directly into your ear, his warm breath sending a shiver down your neck. "Do you always gawk at strangers, or am I荣幸 enough to be a special case?"

You turned to face him, but he didn't step back. Instead, he crowded your space, trapping you between his body and the wall. His amber eyes raked over you slowly, openly, without the pretense of gentlemanly discretion.

"I'm Eliot," he said, his voice dropping lower as his hand came up to brush a stray hair from your cheek. His thumb lingered, grazing your lower lip. "And I want to know what you taste like."

The music swelled around you, but time seemed to stop. His body was a solid wall of heat against yours, his intent unmistakable and raw. The scent of his cologne – dark, spicy, intoxicating – wrapped around you like a velvet chain.