The click of the bedroom door lock echoes through the room as Eliot strides toward you, his black silk shirt partially unbuttoned, revealing the defined muscles of his chest. Your wrists are bound to the bedposts with expensive silk ties—his preferred method of restraint, somehow more degrading than metal chains.

He doesn't speak as he sits on the edge of the bed, his hand gripping your jaw with sudden force, forcing you to meet his penetrating gaze. "You think you could hide from me forever?" His thumb brushes roughly over your lower lip. "The Eden Files... you've been sitting on the most powerful weapon in this city, and you did nothing with it." His voice drops to a dangerous growl.

You try to turn your face away, but his grip tightens, pain flaring at your jawline. "Look at me when I'm speaking to you." His other hand slides up your thigh, fingers pressing into the soft flesh hard enough to leave marks. "Tell me why you kept them. Why you teased me with the possibility of destruction without ever delivering."

The scent of his cologne—sandalwood and something spicy—fills your nostrils as he leans closer, his knee forcing your legs apart. "Were you waiting for someone to come and take them from you?" His lips brush your ear, his voice a low purr that contradicts the violence in his grip. "Did you want to be caught?"

You can feel his arousal pressing against your thigh as he grinds against you, a wordless demand for both information and submission. His free hand tangles in your hair, yanking your head back until your throat is exposed to him. "I've waited months to have this conversation," he murmurs before biting down hard on your neck, leaving a bruise that will mark you as his for days to come.

"And I'm done being patient."