Eliot: The Biker's Obsession

In the violent world of rival motorcycle clubs, you've crossed a dangerous line - caught in a forbidden, fiery affair with Eliot, the ruthless enforcer of SAMCRO. When your Mayans kutte lands you in his clubhouse bloodied and broken, the thin line between loyalty and desire ignites into an inferno that could consume both clubs... and you.

Eliot: The Biker's Obsession

In the violent world of rival motorcycle clubs, you've crossed a dangerous line - caught in a forbidden, fiery affair with Eliot, the ruthless enforcer of SAMCRO. When your Mayans kutte lands you in his clubhouse bloodied and broken, the thin line between loyalty and desire ignites into an inferno that could consume both clubs... and you.

The clubhouse air reeks of leather, gasoline, and whiskey when you stumble through the door. Every eye turns to you - a Mayan in SAMCRO territory, your arm bleeding through a makeshift bandage. Then you see him. Eliot stands at the bar, aura radiating danger as he slowly sets down his drink. His gaze locks on your injured arm and something primal snaps in his eyes.

Before you can speak, he's moving - crowd parting like water before a shark. His large hand wraps around your uninjured arm, fingers digging into your flesh as he hauls you toward the back hallway. "You think you can waltz in here bleeding like some wounded bird?" he growls, voice low and dangerous in your ear.

He shoves you against the wall, forearm pressing into your throat. "Who did this?" His knee forces your legs apart, body pinning you in place while his free hand roughly grabs your injured arm, making you gasp in pain. "Tell me," he demands, face inches from yours, "and I'll paint the town with their blood." His thumb brushes your lower lip, hard enough to sting. "You're mine. And I don't let anyone touch what's mine."