CLAIMED BY HIS PRESENCE
1341 Words
~Amara Collins~
I should have walked away.
That was the first thought that crossed my mind when Lucas Sterling stepped back into the boardroom, his presence swallowing the air around me.
But I didn’t.
I couldn’t.
He closed the door behind him slowly, deliberately. The soft click echoed louder than it should have, sealing us inside the room like a secret waiting to unfold.
“Did you read it?” he asked, nodding toward the file in my hands.
“Yes,” I replied, hoping my voice didn’t betray how fast my heart was pounding. “It’s a merger proposal. High risk.”
His lips curved slightly. “High reward.”
He moved toward me, and I instinctively straightened. Every time he stepped closer, it felt like he was testing invisible boundaries—seeing how much space I would give him before I broke.
“You don’t look convinced,” he said.
I swallowed. “It’s aggressive.”
“I am aggressive.”
The words weren’t loud. They didn’t need to be.
My breath caught. There was something deeper in the way he said it. Something that had nothing to do with business.
He stopped in front of me—too close. My back nearly touched the edge of the table. I could feel the heat radiating from his body, could smell the subtle cologne that clung to him like temptation.
“Tell me, Amara,” he murmured, voice low, controlled. “Do I make you nervous?”
Yes.
“No,” I lied.
His eyes darkened slightly, like he enjoyed the challenge. “You’re a terrible liar.”
Before I could react, he reached past me, placing one hand on the table behind me. The move boxed me in—not touching me, not quite—but close enough that my pulse jumped wildly.
“I don’t tolerate weakness,” he said softly. “But I reward strength.”
My fingers tightened around the folder. “And what exactly do you think I am?”
His gaze swept over me slowly—not inappropriate, but intense enough to make my skin tingle.
“I think,” he said carefully, “you’re trying very hard not to feel something.”
My stomach flipped.
He was wrong.
He had to be wrong.
But the way my body reacted to his nearness betrayed me.
“You’re my employee,” I reminded him quietly.
“And you’re very aware that I’m your boss,” he replied smoothly. “That power unsettles you.”
“It doesn’t.”
“Prove it.”
The challenge in his tone ignited something inside me—something stubborn and reckless.
So instead of stepping away… I held his gaze.
The silence between us thickened.
His jaw tightened slightly, as if he hadn’t expected that response. For a brief second, I felt the shift in control.
Then he leaned in just enough for his voice to brush my ear.
“Careful, Amara,” he whispered. “You don’t want to start something you can’t finish.”
My breath stuttered.
This wasn’t professional. This wasn’t safe.
And yet I didn’t move.
His phone buzzed again, breaking the tension. His expression hardened instantly—the dominant CEO snapping back into place.
He stepped away, adjusting his cufflinks like nothing had happened.
“We have a gala tonight,” he said coolly. “You’ll attend.”
I blinked. “I’m not—”
“You are now.”
“That’s not in my contract.”
“Consider it an amendment.”
My frustration flared. “You can’t just change my role whenever you feel like it.”
He walked toward the door, pausing just long enough to glance over his shoulder.
“I can,” he said calmly. “And I did.”
The door shut behind him.
I stood there, shaking—not from fear, but from something far more dangerous.
Excitement.
Later That Evening
The dress he sent was inappropriate.
Not scandalous—but dangerously elegant. Black silk. Backless. It clung to my body in a way that made me hyperaware of every curve.
I stared at myself in the mirror, barely recognizing the woman looking back.
This wasn’t the quiet, controlled professional I prided myself on being.
This was someone stepping into fire.
The gala was already in full swing when I arrived. Crystal chandeliers glittered overhead, powerful executives laughing and networking under soft golden light.
And then I saw him.
Lucas stood at the center of it all, effortlessly commanding attention. His dark suit fit him like armor. Women lingered near him, drawn to his power.
But when his eyes found mine—
Everything else disappeared.
The conversation around him faded as he watched me approach.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
His gaze traveled over me, not rushed, not crude—just assessing.
Approving.
“You clean up well,” he murmured when I reached him.
“So do you,” I replied, forcing confidence.
His hand brushed against the small of my back as he guided me forward. The touch was light.
Possessive.
“Stay close,” he said quietly.
It wasn’t a request.
Throughout the evening, I felt eyes on me. Whispers. Curiosity.
“Is she new?”
“Since when does Lucas bring dates?”
Dates.
The word made my pulse spike.
“I’m not your date,” I muttered under my breath.
He leaned closer. “No?”
His fingers tightened slightly at my waist.
“But you are with me.”
The way he said it made heat bloom in my chest.
A tall blonde woman approached us, her smile too sharp to be friendly.
“Lucas,” she purred. “You didn’t tell me you’d be bringing… company.”
His expression remained unreadable. “I don’t report my decisions.”
Her gaze slid to me, cool and assessing. “Be careful,” she said softly. “Men like him don’t belong to anyone.”
Before I could respond, Lucas stepped forward, his body subtly shielding mine.
“I don’t belong,” he corrected calmly. “And I don’t share.”
The air shifted.
The woman’s smile faltered.
And suddenly I understood something terrifying.
He wasn’t playing.
Later, when the music softened and the crowd thinned, Lucas led me out onto the balcony.
Cool night air brushed my skin, calming the fire racing through me.
“You shouldn’t let people assume things,” I said quietly.
“Assume what?”
“That I’m yours.”
He stepped closer.
Close enough that the city lights framed him like something dark and dangerous.
“And are you?” he asked.
My breath caught.
“This is complicated,” I whispered.
He lifted his hand slowly, deliberately, as if giving me time to pull away.
I didn’t.
His fingers brushed my jaw gently, tilting my face up toward his.
The touch was soft.
But the meaning wasn’t.
“I don’t chase,” he said quietly. “If I want something… it comes to me.”
“And what if it doesn’t?”
His thumb traced lightly along my cheek.
“Then I take it.”
My pulse thundered.
This was reckless.
This was forbidden.
This was exactly the kind of line I swore I would never cross.
And yet…
I didn’t step away.
Not when his forehead almost brushed mine.
Not when his voice dropped lower.
“Tell me to stop, Amara.”
The words were steady.
Controlled.
But I could feel the tension beneath them.
I opened my mouth.
And no sound came out.
Footsteps echoed from inside the ballroom.
Lucas didn’t move away.
Instead, his hand slid from my jaw to my waist, pulling me just slightly closer.
“Last chance,” he murmured.
Did I want him to stop?
Or was I about to let the Alpha claim something neither of us could undo?
And just as his lips hovered inches from mine—
A voice behind us said,
“Lucas, we need to talk. Now.”
And the tone made it clear.
This wasn’t about business.
- Writer
