His Dangerous Desire

NICO

The last thing I expected when I answered the ad was to end up in a penthouse—face-to-face with a man who looked like he owned the city.

He stood behind a glass desk like a king, dressed in black tailored perfection, his tie still knotted, sleeves rolled halfway. Clean-shaven jaw, sharp cheekbones, and dark eyes that cut through me like a blade.

And I was staring.

Shit.

“Name?” His voice was calm, deep, and commanding.

“Nico... Nico Rivera,” I replied, clearing my throat and forcing myself to look anywhere but at his full lips.

“Age?”

“Twenty-five.”

He looked up from the file, brows lifted. “Bodyguard experience?”

“Military background. Four years in private security after that. No failed assignments. No personal ties.” I paused. “If you’re looking for complete discretion, I’m it.”

His lips twitched. “We’ll see.”

He stood and walked toward me—slow, controlled steps, like a predator inspecting his prey.

The room suddenly felt smaller.

“Why did you apply for this job?” he asked.

I hesitated. The truth? Because it paid ten thousand a week and I was desperate.

But that wasn’t what he wanted to hear.

“I’m good at following orders. And I don’t scare easily.”

His gaze dropped down my body. My skin prickled under the heat of it.

“Not easily,” he murmured, his voice low. “But you do scare.”

I didn’t answer. My jaw tensed.

He walked past me, around me, then stopped behind me. Close. Too close. I could feel the heat of his body, the brush of his breath near my ear.

“You’re in debt, Nico. Sixty-eight thousand dollars in back loans. No family. No emergency contact. No current employer. And yet, here you are—alone in a stranger’s penthouse, willing to sign away your freedom for the right price.”

I froze.

“I do my homework,” he continued. “And what I see... is a man who’s out of options.”

I turned to face him. “And what do you want, Mr. Knight?”

He smiled. Cold. Controlled.

“I want obedience. Total. No backtalk. No refusal. You’ll live here, move when I say, protect me when needed—but most importantly, you will not question me.”

My spine stiffened. “Protect you from what?”

“That’s none of your concern.” He stepped back, expression unreadable. “You’ll be paid weekly. You’ll sleep on the same floor. And you’ll be available to me—at all times. Understood?”

That last part lingered in the air like smoke.

I should have walked away.

I should have told him to shove his money and his offer where the sun doesn’t shine.

But instead… I nodded.

“Understood.”

His lips curved into something darker than a smile.

“Good. Then take off your shirt.”

I blinked. “What?”

“Shirt. Now.” His voice didn’t rise, didn’t harden—it didn’t need to. Power pulsed through every word.

“What, is this part of the interview?” I said dryly.

“It’s part of the arrangement. If I’m trusting you to protect my life, I need to see what I’m working with.” His tone remained calm, amused even. “And I always inspect my property.”

My stomach flipped at that word—property.

But instead of backing down… I unbuttoned my shirt. One at a time. Slow. Deliberate.

His eyes stayed locked on me as I peeled it off and tossed it to the floor.

“You’re not shy,” he noted.

“Never said I was.”

He walked up to me again, eyes dragging over my chest, down my abdomen.

“Military tattoos. Scars. Lean muscle. Efficient. No vanity. That’s good.”

Then he did something that made my breath catch—he touched me. Just a single finger, tracing a line down the center of my chest, slow and possessive.

Every part of me went still.

“I’ll expect you to stay close to me at events, during travel, and inside this penthouse,” he said quietly. “Sometimes that means blending in. Sometimes that means distracting others. And sometimes…”

His gaze met mine.

“…it means surrendering.”

“To you?” I asked.

“To the role you’ve agreed to play.”

I swallowed. “What exactly do you expect of me, Ares?”

He stepped even closer, until there was barely a breath between us.

“I expect you to follow my rules. Speak when I allow it. Obey when I demand it. And when I say strip, you ask me if you should kneel too.”

My pulse thundered.

He leaned down, lips grazing my jaw without touching.

“Still interested in the job?”

I looked him dead in the eyes. “What if I told you I don’t kneel for anyone?”

Ares smirked. “Then I’d consider that my next challenge.”

Later that night...

I was shown to my room. If you could call it that.

It wasn’t some spare security suite or bland apartment room. No, it was luxury: black velvet bedding, floor-to-ceiling windows, marble bathroom. Everything screamed you’re not a bodyguard—you’re something else now.

And maybe I was.

My phone was confiscated. Contacts deleted. A strict schedule outlined.

I was on lockdown, in a penthouse with a billionaire who thought he could break me.

Let him try.

Because if Ares Knight wanted control, he’d have to earn it.

But God help me... some twisted part of me wanted to give it to him.