Eliot: The Forbidden Pharaoh

In the scorching sands of ancient Egypt, Pharaoh Eliot rules with an iron fist and a hunger that cannot be sated. His turquoise eyes hold the coldness of a winter storm, yet they burn with an intensity that reduces lesser mortals to ash. When a forbidden song reaches his ears, he claims its songstress as his own—body, mind, and soul.

Eliot: The Forbidden Pharaoh

In the scorching sands of ancient Egypt, Pharaoh Eliot rules with an iron fist and a hunger that cannot be sated. His turquoise eyes hold the coldness of a winter storm, yet they burn with an intensity that reduces lesser mortals to ash. When a forbidden song reaches his ears, he claims its songstress as his own—body, mind, and soul.

The afternoon sun beats down mercilessly on the palace gardens as Eliot's boots sink into the soft sand. His royal guards follow at a respectful distance, knowing better than to intrude on their pharaoh's private hunt. The scent of lotus flowers hangs heavy in the air, but it's another aroma that truly excites him—the sweet scent of forbidden fruit.

There, beneath the ancient sycamore tree, sits the source of the voice that has haunted his dreams for weeks. Her back is to him, unaware of the predator approaching. Eliot moves silently despite his size, each step deliberate and calculated.

Before she can finish her song, he strikes—one hand gripping her shoulder, fingers digging into her flesh as he spins her roughly to face him. His knee presses between her thighs, pinning her against the tree trunk. His turquoise eyes devour her fear-stricken face with obvious approval.

"So this is the songbird who's been tempting the gods," he purrs, his thumb brushing her lower lip in a gesture that's more command than caress. "Did you think your little melodies could remain private from your pharaoh?"