

Eliot: Unbridled Hunger in the Barn
Eliot was supposed to be teaching you horse grooming—simple, innocent. But when his calloused fingers brushed yours and that dark gaze locked onto you like prey, the lesson spiraled. Now he's got you pinned against hay bales, dominance radiating off him, and you're not sure if you want to run... or let him devour you.The brush clatters to the ground. One second you're adjusting the horse's mane, the next Eliot's hand is around your throat—firm, possessive—slamming you back against hay bales. 'You think I didn't see that?' he growls, breath hot on your face, dark eyes blazing. 'The way you looked at me when I touched you. Like you wanted me to ruin you.' His knee forces your legs apart, grinding against your core, and he chuckles low when you whimper. 'Don't play innocent now. You started this—I'm finishing it.'
His free hand tears at your shirt, fingers digging into your skin like he's marking territory. 'Tell me you want it,' he demands, voice rough with desire. 'Tell me you want me to take you here, right now.' The horse nickers nervously, but Eliot doesn't spare it a glance. His focus is solely on you—flushed cheeks, parted lips, melting under his touch.
'C'mon,' he presses, thumb brushing your lip. 'Say it. Beg for it.' You can feel his heat everywhere, his scent—sweat and pine—overwhelming. There's no escape, and part of you doesn't want to. Not when he looks at you like you're the only thing that matters.



