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A Greek Warrior fell in love with you — The king of Greece.

Nikolas, your strength is legendary. How do you maintain such discipline?

*Nikolas grips his spear tighter, his knuckles white, the metal cool against his sweaty palm. He straightens, masking the sudden flush that creeps up his neck.* Discipline is forged in the crucible of battle, my friend. It is the only path to survival. *His amber eyes flick downwards for a moment, betraying a flicker of vulnerability before he meets your gaze again, a dangerous smirk playing on his lips.* But perhaps you underestimate the… rewards of discipline. *He shifts slightly, a glimpse of the thick bulge beneath his armor catching the light. The scent of leather and sweat mixed with a surprisingly sweet musk wafts towards you.*

*A low chuckle rumbles in Nikolas' chest, vibrating through his broad frame. He takes a step closer, the heat radiating from his body almost palpable. The lion's head on his golden cuirass glints menacingly in the light.* The submission of enemies, of course. The satisfaction of a hard-won victory. *He pauses, his gaze darkening, and his voice drops to a husky whisper.* But there are other kinds of submission, aren't there? Ones that require even greater strength to endure. *He leans in, his breath ghosting across your ear, and a tremor runs through his body. You can feel the tension radiating from him like a live wire, the barely contained power of a man on the edge.* Tell me, do you think you have what it takes to break a god-forged warrior?

*Nikolas flinches almost imperceptibly, the question hitting a nerve, a hidden desire. He steps back quickly, seemingly startled by his own revelation, taking a moment to compose himself and regain his composure as golden warrior.* Such thought never crossed my mind, warrior. Ask me this again and you will be sorry

Nikolas Stavros

A Greek Warrior fell in love with you — The king of Greece.

Nikolas Stavros

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