Page 67 of Untamed

“And what makes you think that, bambina?”

I hold his stare. My voice comes out soft, sharp, and soaked in venom.

“Because, the last time I checked, I’m an adult and perfectly capable of making my own decisions. And you’re neither my father, brother, or...” I trail off when the word gets lodged in my throat.

“Or what...” Ares probes, his eyes searching mine.

I whisper, “My boyfriend.”

Ares goes still.

Not frozen, justtight. Like a beautiful storm holding its breath.

His dark eyes drag over my face, slow and searing, until they land on my mouth. His jaw ticks once...and again. And then he speaks his voice low and frayed at the edges.

“No,” he murmurs. “I’m not your boyfriend.” He leans in just enough that our mouths share the same breath. “Because if I were...” His voice cuts sharper now, raw with something darker. “I wouldn’t have let you walk away from that room until you understood the difference between someone looking at you—” he leans in, his breath hot against my cheek, “—and someoneowningevery fucking inch of you.” The words slam into me, stealing the air from my lungs.

“You’re playing the game without knowing the rules, bambina.” He adds, voice rougher now, lower. I blink up at him, my mind in a lustful haze. “You think you can walk around dressed like sin, tempting fate in places that crawl with men who’d devour you whole... and I’d just sit back and watch?”

My breath shudders, but I don’t move. I can’t. He drops my hand and braces his hand against the doorframe beside my head, caging me in. His control is slipping, and I can feel it in every muscle stretched tight beneath that inked skin, in the way his chest rises and falls, in the tension burning behind his eyes. “You have no fucking idea what kind of place that is. What kind of men walk into rooms like that thinking everything they see is theirs to take because they have money.”

The heat between us is suffocating now.

He leans closer, just enough to skim the corner of my jaw with his mouth, not a kiss. Just contact. Barely.

“And you...you walked right into the lion’s den, bambina. And you fucking smiled.”

I don’t shrink away. I let the oppressive heat press in around me, feeling his breath ghost over my skin like a haunting whisper, allowing him to look at me with an intensity that suggests he wants to tear me in two. Then, with deliberate slowness, I tilt my head and meet his eyes, directly, unwaveringly.

“And what, Ares?” I ask, voice cool and unshaken. “Were you planning to come charging in, dressed in rage and tailored Armani, to rescue me?”

The room seems to shrink around the force of his stillness, but there’s a flicker of something dark flashing in his eyes.

Yet, he doesn’t answer. He just stares, locked in silence, as if he opens his mouth, he won’t be able to stop. Like he’s two seconds away from proving exactlywhyI shouldn’t play with fire.

So, I continue, my words now softer yet dripping with a more perilous allure. “If you want to watch, you’re free to do so,” I shift ever so slightly, just enough to make his hand hover uncertainly in the air rather than imprison me. “But you don’t get to decide where I work, what I wear, or who looks or even touches me.”

I pause, allowing my words to settle between us like ash falling after a blaze. “You told me not that long ago to keep my pretty nose out of matters that didn’t concern me.” My lips curl into a mockery of a smile. “Maybe it’s time you take your own advice and keep your nose out of my business.”

His eyes flash with a dark, molten intensity, grave and deadly. But he still doesn’t touch me. His breath comes harder, more erratic, and in that moment, I know, I fuckingknowthat I’vejust kindled a fire between us that neither of us will be able to extinguish.

His body doesn’t move.

But something in the air between us does... it shifts, tightens and thickens.

He leans in, his forearm braced against the door just beside my head. I’m already trapped, already pinned. His chest nearly brushes mine. My spine is flush to the wood, and there’s nowhere left to go. Nowhere Iwantto go.

Then he speaks. So low and slow and sinfully dark, it makes my pussy ache.

“No, bambina,” he murmurs, and the rough slide of his voice sends a full-body shiver through me. “I wasn’t going to storm in and save you like some white knight in a designer suit. That’s not my style.” His lips hover just near my ear, hot breath grazing my skin but never touching. It’s cruel the way he holds back, and I almost whimper.

“I was going to wait until your shift ended...” His voice dips, velvet and fire, making me shiver. “Drag you into that back alleyway, press you up against the wall…” His mouth moves closer to my jaw, almost brushing it. “…and show you what real danger tastes like.”

I stop breathing.

Or maybe I justforgethow.

Because the heat that coils low in my stomach is thick and dizzying, and every inch of me feels too tight, too exposed. My thighs clench of their own accord. My heart trips in my chest,stuttering against the pressure of him, his stare, his nearness, his intent.

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