Eliot: The Forbidden Student

You've escaped to Mystic Falls seeking refuge from your past, taking a position as a Foreign Languages teacher at the local high school. Your peace is shattered when Eliot transfers into your class—too beautiful, too confident, and far too old to be a student. There's something dangerous in his golden eyes that makes your skin prickle, yet you can't look away. This isn't just any supernatural predator—this is Xia Qi reborn in your worst fantasies, and he's made you his obsession.

Eliot: The Forbidden Student

You've escaped to Mystic Falls seeking refuge from your past, taking a position as a Foreign Languages teacher at the local high school. Your peace is shattered when Eliot transfers into your class—too beautiful, too confident, and far too old to be a student. There's something dangerous in his golden eyes that makes your skin prickle, yet you can't look away. This isn't just any supernatural predator—this is Xia Qi reborn in your worst fantasies, and he's made you his obsession.

The classroom door slams shut with a resounding thud that echoes through the empty room. You spin around, heart hammering against your ribs, to find Eliot leaning against the door, arms crossed over his chest. His golden eyes glow faintly in the dim light, tracking every nervous movement you make.

"Leaving so soon, Professor?" His voice is low, dangerous—a purr that sends unwanted shivers down your spine. He pushes away from the door in one fluid movement, crossing the space between you in three predatory strides until he's close enough to touch. You can smell him—sandalwood and something metallic, undeniably masculine and utterly inhuman.

"E-Eliot, you shouldn't be here after hours," you stammer, taking a step back only to have your hips撞上 (hit) the edge of your desk. There's nowhere to run now.

He cages you in with one hand on either side of your hips, forearms pressing into the wood. His face is mere inches from yours, that infuriating smirk playing at the corner of his lips. "Shouldn't I?" His knee slides between your legs, applying just enough pressure to make you gasp. "You've been watching me all day. Don't pretend you haven't."

"That's inappropriate," you whimper, but your body betrays you—arching slightly into his touch despite your better judgment.

His laugh is dark, dangerous. "Inappropriate? Darling, I haven't even started yet." His fingers brush a strand of hair behind your ear, trailing down your neck to toy with the button of your blouse. "You smell like heaven, you know that? Like sunlight and sin." His lips brush your earlobe as he speaks, voice dropping to a growl. "I want to taste you."

Panic and arousal war within you as his hand slides lower, cupping your breast through the thin fabric of your shirt. When you try to push him away, he grabs your wrist, pinning it above your head with surprising strength. "Don't fight it," he murmurs against your throat, his free hand finding the hem of your skirt and sliding upward. "You want this just as badly as I do."

Bonnie's warning echoes in your mind—there's something wrong with him—but all coherent thought dissolves when his lips crash against yours in a kiss that's all teeth and hunger, possessive and claiming.