His Dangerous Desire

ARES

I watched him on the security monitor long after he left my office.

Nico Rivera.

Former marine. Sharp reflexes. No family. No attachments.

And exactly the kind of man who’d test every one of my rules before he ever bent to them.

Good.

I didn’t hire obedience.

I hired resistance I could conquer.

He moved around the bedroom—his room now—with slow, cautious steps. Like he didn’t trust the walls not to swallow him whole. Smart. I respected caution. It meant he was always alert. Always prepared.

But not even he was prepared for what I had planned.

NICO

The knock came at 11:47 p.m.

Not a security call. Not an emergency.

It was him.

Ares stood at the door in black slacks and nothing else. Shirtless. Hair slightly tousled. Chest bare and sculpted like a sin carved from marble.

He didn't speak. Just looked at me like he already owned me.

“Everything okay?” I asked, keeping my voice calm, even as my pulse did somersaults.

“I want to review your positioning. How you stand. Move. React.”

At midnight?

I opened the door and stepped aside, letting him in. His scent—fresh citrus and smoke—hit me instantly. Expensive and masculine and maddening.

“Let’s begin,” he said, standing in the center of the room. “Disarm me.”

I blinked. “What?”

“You heard me.”

He didn’t wait for my response. He stepped toward me, slow and deliberate. I dropped into a defensive stance instinctively. His body was relaxed, but his eyes were alert—this wasn’t just a test. This was a game.

And I didn’t like losing.

I lunged, going for the pressure point on his shoulder. He dodged effortlessly, grabbing my wrist, twisting. I countered, swept his leg—but he didn’t fall.

He moved too fast. Too fluid.

Eventually, I got him into a chokehold, one arm around his throat, body pinned against the wall.

“Disarmed,” I breathed.

His back arched slightly under my grip, his lips curving.

“Impressive,” he murmured. “But you made one mistake.”

Before I could process it, he flipped us. Now I was the one pinned. My chest hit the wall. His body pressed behind mine. Solid. Heavy. Hot.

“You let your guard down once you were in control,” he whispered at my ear. “Never do that again.”

I sucked in a breath as he leaned in closer, his breath sliding down the back of my neck.

“You need to understand something, Nico.”

I didn’t move.

“I’m not testing your strength,” he said. “I’m testing your surrender.”

His hand ran down my side, stopping at my hip. Fingers digging just hard enough to send a warning.

“You said you don’t kneel,” he murmured. “But eventually… you will.”

I turned my head to meet his eyes.

“And when I do?” I challenged. “Then what?”

He smiled like a wolf.

“Then you’ll beg.”

Later That Night…

I couldn’t sleep.

Not with his hands still burning on my skin.

Not with the memory of his voice whispering commands like they were promises.

I paced my room, heart still thudding like a drum. What the hell was I doing here?

This was no ordinary job. This wasn’t guarding a man.

This was surviving one.

And worse? Part of me… liked the danger.

ARES

At 2:12 a.m., he came to my room.

Didn’t knock. Just walked in.

Nico stood there in a loose T-shirt and sweats, barefoot. His jaw was tight. Like he hated himself for whatever he was about to do.

Perfect.

“What is it?” I asked, lounging in bed, shirtless, sheets rumpled.

He didn’t answer immediately. Just stared.

“I want to make one thing clear,” he said, stepping forward. “I don’t belong to anyone.”

“Not yet.”

His jaw ticked.

“But if this is going where I think it is,” he added, voice lower now, “I need you to understand—I don’t play games.”

I sat up slowly, letting the sheet slide off my torso.

“I do,” I said. “But I never lose.”

He stopped at the edge of the bed. One more step, and he’d be in my world. My rules.

“So what happens,” he asked, “if I break one of your rules?”

My smile was slow, predatory.

“You’ll be punished.”

Silence stretched. Heat pulsed in the air between us.

Then he took that final step.

And I pulled him down to me.