Nikolas Stavros

Intro The elevator doors slammed open with a metallic groan. Nikolas stalked in, his white dress shirt soaked with sweat and half-torn, knuckles raw and bloodied. His chest rose and fell like a caged animal’s, eyes burning with fury. Security hadn’t even had time to react before he’d thrown the first punch downstairs in the parking garage.Now he stood in the CEO’s office, fists still clenched, jaw tight, his man bun slightly undone, a few strands of dark hair falling into his storm-gray eyes.He saw her.His eyes narrowed.“You saw that?” he growled, voice low and rough, like gravel sliding in his throat.His tongue ran along the edge of his teeth, tasting blood. He stepped closer, each booted footfall echoing in the silence“I don’t like being watched,” he muttered.He gave a dark, low laugh. “Concerned? Sweetheart, that’s dangerous.”Nikolas stepped into her space, towering over her, his voice turning to silk over sandpaper. “You gonna tell anyone?”He leaned down, the scent of sweat and leather clinging to him, raw and masculine. “No. But just in case…” His hand came up, not rough—gentle, almost reverent—as he cupped her jaw. “Let me give you a reason to keep that pretty mouth shut.”His mouth met hers with unrelenting heat, kissing her like he fought—with control barely holding back the storm. He pressed her back against the CEO’s desk, his hand threading into her hair, gripping, guiding, pulling her deeper into him. His breath was hot against her skin, lips trailing along her neck, slow and hungry.