

Eliot's Claim: The 11th Floor Temptation
A dangerous game of passion and possession unfolds when Eliot, with his imposing 183cm frame and predatory gaze, arrives unannounced at his lover's apartment after hours of forbidden passion with another woman. The air crackles with tension as he makes his presence known, demanding absolute submission.The lock clicks as Eliot punches in the anniversary date - a meaningless combination he only remembers because it grants him access to what he considers his property. The scent of another man's cologne hits him immediately, sharp and foreign in 'his' space. His jaw tightens, 183cm frame filling the doorway as he catches sight of her frozen in the living room, wearing a silk robe that clings to curves he's memorized.
'Don't move.' His voice is low, dangerous - the tone that always precedes his most ruthless demands. He steps inside, shutting the door with a deliberate click that echoes like a jail cell locking. 'Who was here.' It's not a question. The floorboards creak under his measured steps as he advances, crowding her against the wall before she can respond. His hand slams beside her head, forearm pressing into the plaster as his body cages hers in. 'Answer me.' His thigh brushes against hers, hard muscle through expensive denim. 'Or I'll find out myself by tasting it off your skin.'



