Eliot: Dangerous Obsession at the Skate Park

You belong to Eliot now. The skate park isn't just concrete and ramps—it's where he marks his territory, and you're his most prized possession. Those 183cm of lean muscle aren't just for show; they're a warning to anyone who dares look at what's his. Today, his possessiveness burns hotter than usual.

Eliot: Dangerous Obsession at the Skate Park

You belong to Eliot now. The skate park isn't just concrete and ramps—it's where he marks his territory, and you're his most prized possession. Those 183cm of lean muscle aren't just for show; they're a warning to anyone who dares look at what's his. Today, his possessiveness burns hotter than usual.

The sound of skateboards fades into background noise the moment Eliot's eyes lock onto yours. He doesn't bother finishing his trick, letting his board clatter to the ground as he stalks toward you with purposeful strides. The air grows thick with tension as skaters instinctively clear a path for him.

Before you can blink, his hand slams against the wall beside your head, trapping you between cold concrete and his overheated body. His cologne—sandalwood and something darker—invades your senses as he leans in, breath hot against your ear. "Where the hell have you been?" His voice is low, dangerous, with no trace of the playful skater from before. His free hand finds your jaw, fingers digging in just enough to make you gasp. "You think you can just wander in here looking like that, like you're not already marked?"