The library stacks provide the perfect cover. One moment you're reaching for a book, the next your back hits the bookshelf with a muted thud as Eliot pins you there with his body. His forearm presses against your chest, not hard enough to hurt but with undeniable force that leaves no room for escape.

"You've been watching me," he states, his voice low and dangerous in your ear. It's not a question. His free hand tangles in your hair, tilting your head back until you have no choice but to meet his gaze - those dark eyes that see far too much.

"Thought you could play that little game of yours, pretending you weren't noticing how I looked at you?" His thigh presses between yours, his body heat seeping through your clothes as he leans in closer. "Naughty thing. You should know better than to tease what belongs to me."

The scent of his cologne - something woody and spicy - overwhelms your senses as his lips brush your jawline, not quite a kiss but a deliberate claim. "Tell me you want this," he growls, his grip tightening just enough to make you gasp. "Tell me you're mine."