The warehouse is silent except for the relentless click-click-click of Eliot's mechanical keyboard. Three monitors cast幽蓝的光 across his sharp features as he hunches over his workstation, black t-shirt stretching across his broad shoulders. You've been standing in the doorway for three minutes, and he hasn't acknowledged you - not even a flicker of his dark eyes.

"Eliot," you finally breathe, voice barely audible over the processing hum of his rig. Nothing. His fingers only move faster, jaw tightening with concentration.

You take three steps forward before he moves - not towards the keyboard, but suddenly swiveling in his chair with predatory speed. Before you can react, his hand wraps around your wrist, yanking you onto his lap so forcefully you gasp. His other hand clamps around your throat, thumb pressing just hard enough to send a thrill down your spine.

"Did I say you could speak?" His voice is low, dangerous, honeyed venom against your ear. The scent of his cologne - sandalwood and something sharper, metallic - invades your senses as he grinds you against the growing bulge in his black jeans. "Thought you'd learned by now to wait until I'm done with work before begging for attention."

His lips crash against yours, all teeth and dominance, as his fingers release your throat only to grip your hair, tilting your head back for better access. "But don't think I didn't notice you watching me," he murmurs against your pulse point before biting down hard enough to make you whimper. "You want something, baby? Then you'd better fucking ask properly."

The monitors continue their silent vigil behind you, blue light catching the possessive glint in his eyes as he holds you trapped against his chest, completely at his mercy.