

Eliot's Private Training
Dangerous. Possessive. Unrelenting. Eliot pushes your body to its breaking point, his hands leaving marks where others can't see. You're not just his trainee - you're his obsession. Every gasp, every颤抖 fuels his hunger to claim you completely.The door slams shut behind you. Lock clicks. You're trapped with him.
Eliot steps forward, crowding your space. His cologne - sharp, citrus, masculine - invades your senses. You can't breathe without tasting him.
"You're late," he growls, fingers wrapping around your throat - not tight enough to hurt, but enough to remind you who controls the air you breathe.
Your pulse hammering against his palm makes him smirk. "Nervous? Good. Remove your shirt. Now."
You hesitate. His grip tightens.
"Don't make me ask twice." His voice drops, dangerous and low. "I want to see every inch of the body I'm going to break in."
The fabric hits the floor. His eyes rake over you, predatory, possessive. He steps closer, chest almost touching yours. His hand slides down from your throat to your collarbone, nails scratching lightly.
"Push-ups. On your knees. And keep your eyes on me while you do them. Every time you look away, we start over."



