Dangerous Desires - 1. Chapter 1: A stranger in my bed

Nathaniel Harper, a man of refined elegance, sat in his grand, opulent room within a sprawling mansion. The soft glow of the desk lamp illuminated his handsome features, casting a warm light on his pretty green eyes, which were framed by his stylish glasses.

His glasses, with their sleek, black frames, accentuated his striking eyes, while his beautiful, smart, nerdy hairstyle—neatly combed and just a touch tousled… complemented his refined look. His lips were full and plush, adding a touch of softness to his otherwise impeccably polished appearance.

Dressed in expensive-looking pajamas, a deep navy blue silk set with delicate embroidery, Nathaniel was the epitome of understated luxury. As he meticulously updated his journal, recording the monotony of his day-to-day life, his pen moved with a fluid grace. His life was a predictable cycle: overseeing the operations of one of the largest hospitals in the country alongside his beautiful mother, who, despite her own brilliance, preferred the warmth of her home to the sterile confines of a hospital.

Their relationship was characterized by mutual respect and a shared commitment to their work, yet their interactions were often bound by the same routine that governed their professional lives.

Nathaniel’s days were a symphony of schedules and responsibilities, each blending seamlessly into the next. He lived alone in his mansion, surrounded by a cadre of employees who catered to his every need, never finding reason to complain. His solace came from his books, which provided an escape from his meticulously ordered existence.

As he finished recording the day’s events, Nathaniel closed his journal with a soft sigh and carefully placed it in the cupboard beside his desk. With a yawn, he stretched his arms above his head and ambled toward the bathroom. The cool marble tiles beneath his feet contrasted with the warmth of his silk pajamas as he brushed his teeth, the rhythmic swish of the toothbrush a comforting lullaby.

Outside, the night was cloaked in darkness, the mansion’s grandeur casting long shadows across the grounds. Near the edges of the property, hidden within a small bush, a figure moved cautiously. His footsteps, barely audible, betrayed his presence.

Clad in black ripped skinny jeans and a partially unbuttoned black shirt, with shoulder-length pitch-black hair fluttering in the breeze, he looked over his shoulder with a palpable sense of urgency. The night was heavy with danger, the darkness seeming to close in around him, as if the very air was thick with foreboding. The soft rustling of grass and the distant sound of his sneakers being held in his hand added to the sense of menace that lingered in the night.

Back inside the mansion, Nathaniel emerged from the bathroom, still yawning. He removed his glasses with practiced ease and set them gently on a small table beside his bed. As he slid under the covers, the luxury of his silk pajamas brushing against the crisp, cool sheets, he flicked off the bedside lamp, plunging the room into semi-darkness.

Outside, the shadowy figure approached the mansion’s fence. He gripped the top of the fence with agile hands, pulling himself up with a careful precision that belied his urgency. Walking along the top of the fence, he made sure to remain unseen. When he reached a spot where he could jump down inside the compound, he did so with a soft thud. A grin spread across his face as he spotted a ladder lying nearby.

He moved cautiously, his movements calculated and deliberate. As he set the ladder in place, its slight creak sent a ripple of alertness through Nathaniel, who momentarily lifted his head from the pillows, his eyes searching the room for the source of the noise. After a brief pause, he dismissed the sound, attributing it to the mansion’s creaky old structure. He settled back into his bed, trying to ignore the growing unease.

The figure continued his climb up the ladder with careful steps, and once he reached the balcony, he let the ladder drop to the ground below with a faint clang. He entered the dimly lit room, his eyes adjusting to the low light. There, sprawled across the bed, was Nathaniel, snoring softly.

A grin spread across the intruder’s face as he discarded his sneakers and approached the bed, his movements measured and light. He eased the covers aside, slipping into the space next to Nathaniel with the precision of a practiced thief, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of mischief and anticipation. The night was far from over, and the adventure was just beginning.

***

Nathaniel stirred beneath the covers, his body shifting as the warmth of sleep began to fade. He turned, his breath catching for a moment as he felt something—a weight, a pressure on his chest. His hand moved instinctively, brushing against something soft, something warm. The touch was foreign, unsettling, and then he felt it: a gentle caress across his chest, as though someone was tracing patterns on his skin.

His heart lurched in his chest, pounding furiously as adrenaline surged through his veins. In an instant, he bolted upright, the sudden movement sending him tumbling to the floor in a tangled mess of blankets. His glasses had fallen somewhere, but that was the least of his concerns. His eyes darted to the bed, and what he saw made his breath hitch.

Lying there, sprawled lazily across his satin sheets, was a boy—no, a man, but impossibly young-looking. He was beautiful in a way that felt otherworldly, with pitch-black hair that tumbled in loose waves down to his shoulders. His skin was slightly tanned, smooth and glowing in the soft light of dawn, while his lips, full and perfectly shaped, were a delicate shade of pink, like the first bloom of a rose. His face was angular, sculpted with the precision of an artist’s hand, and even in his sleepy state, he exuded a kind of effortless elegance that Nathaniel had never encountered.

The boy groaned softly, his long fingers gliding over the sheets as he shifted. His voice was a sleepy mumble, thick with the haze of slumber.

“What time is it?” he asked, his eyes still closed as he blindly reached for the clock on the nightstand.

Nathaniel, frozen by the surrealness of the situation, watched as the boy squinted at the clock, a deep sigh escaping his lips.

“It’s only five,” he muttered, dropping his head back on the pillow. “Why are you up so early? Come back to bed.”

Nathaniel’s lips quivered as he struggled to form words, his mind reeling.

“W-who are you? How did you get in here?” His voice cracked, a mixture of fear and confusion.

The boy groaned again, lazily raising his head to glance at Nathaniel. His eyes, sharp and dark as the night, sparkled with a mischievous glint.

“Why are you asking me that?” he said, his tone playfully accusing. “We spent the entire night together, and now you’re pretending you don’t know me?”

Nathaniel’s throat tightened.

“What do you mean?” His voice was steadier now, edged with a rising panic. “Either you tell me who you are, or I’m calling security. And trust me, it won’t be pleasant.”

The boy sighed, sitting up slowly as he stretched his arms overhead, his muscles rippling beneath his shirt.

“Fine, fine,” he said, his voice dripping with frustration. “Since you won’t let me sleep in peace, I guess I’ll have to tell you.”

He leaned forward, his lips curling into a playful smirk as he pointed at Nathaniel.

“I climbed the wall, jumped into your compound, found a ladder, and voilà, I ended up in your room.”

Nathaniel’s heart raced, disbelief flooding his system.

You… what? You’re trespassing! I’ll have security deal with this immediately!” Nathaniel rose to his feet, panic rising in his chest as he prepared to call for help.

Before he could finish his sentence, the boy moved with lightning speed, closing the distance between them in an instant. His hand shot out, covering Nathaniel’s mouth as they both tumbled to the floor. Nathaniel landed on his back, and the boy was on top of him, pinning him down with surprising strength.

For a moment, everything went still.

Nathaniel’s breath hitched as he opened his eyes, and what he saw made the world around him vanish. The boy’s face hovered inches above his own, those sharp, piercing brown eyes staring straight into his, cutting through the confusion, the panic—everything. It was like nothing Nathaniel had ever experienced before. His gaze was hypnotic, as if those eyes could see straight through him, stripping him down to his very soul.

He felt the boy’s breath on his skin, warm and intimate, and a shiver shot down his spine. The space between them disappeared, the world dissolving into a quiet hum that left only the two of them suspended in the moment. The mansion, the night, the strange circumstances—they all faded away, leaving nothing but the intensity of those brown eyes.

Nathaniel’s chest tightened as he found himself studying the boy’s face, taking in every detail as though it held the answers to this surreal encounter. The smooth curve of his jaw, the way his full lips parted slightly, revealing a hint of white teeth beneath. His skin, impossibly soft and unmarred, contrasted starkly with the wild, untamed black hair that framed his face. Those lips were both a temptation and a mystery, a contradiction in every sense.

Time seemed to stretch on forever, the silence filled with unspoken questions and the pounding of Nathaniel’s heart in his ears. He wanted to speak, to ask who this boy was, why he was here, but the words caught in his throat, suffocated by the sheer intensity of the moment. For the first time in as long as he could remember, Nathaniel felt as though he was no longer in control, no longer living by the predictable rhythm of his ordinary life.

And for the first time, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to be.

Nathaniel’s breath was still uneven as the boy atop him chuckled softly, his eyes gleaming with amusement.

“So... what’s your name?” the boy asked, his tone casual, as though they weren’t tangled on the floor in such a compromising position.

Nathaniel swallowed hard, his voice shaky as he replied, “N-Nathaniel Harper.”

A grin spread across the boy's lips, lighting up his entire face. It was a devastating, playful smile that had the power to both disarm and provoke.

“Nathaniel Harper, huh? That’s... boring,” he teased, his voice lilting with mischief. “You look more like a Nate. Yeah, definitely Nate. Sounds better. Sexier.”

Before Nathaniel could respond, the boy’s hand moved slowly up his body, grazing his chest with deliberate slowness. His touch was gentle, almost tender, but there was something in the way his fingers lingered that sent a shiver through Nathaniel’s spine. The boy’s hand continued its slow, sensuous journey, moving lower, brushing against Nathaniel's stomach, until it reached his crotch. His hand pressed lightly there, stroking, teasing.

Nathaniel’s breath hitched. He gasped softly, realizing in that moment that he was hard—his body reacting in a way that defied everything he knew about himself. He had always been certain of who he was. He’d never thought about men in this way, never considered the possibility, but now...

The boy chuckled, a low, teasing sound that sent a wave of heat through Nathaniel’s body.

“Looks like your little boy disagrees with you,” the boy said playfully, his eyes flicking down to where his hand was still stroking Nathaniel's hardening length.

Nathaniel’s eyes widened, his heart thundering in his chest as the boy's hand shifted slightly from his mouth. He leaned in closer, their lips nearly brushing, the heat of the boy’s breath warm against Nathaniel’s face. A strange, electric tension built between them, and before Nathaniel could stop himself, a soft moan escaped his lips.

The boy's grin widened. He chuckled teasingly. "Hang in there," he whispered, his tone dripping with amusement.

And then, just as quickly as the moment had begun, the boy got off Nathaniel, standing up with a grace that felt almost inhuman. Nathaniel lay there on the floor, his heart still racing, his mind spinning. He couldn’t understand what had just happened—why his body had reacted that way, why his heart was pounding in his chest, and why a boy—a stranger—had made him harder than he had ever been before.

His breath came in shallow gasps as he slowly got to his feet, his hand reaching for his glasses. He put them on, blinking as the world came back into focus.

Suddenly, clothes were tossed at him. Nathaniel caught them in confusion, looking up to see the boy standing at the doorway of his bathroom. He was completely naked.

Nathaniel’s breath caught in his throat as his eyes traveled, against his will, over the boy’s body. He had a slim waist, muscular chest, and a perfectly sculpted physique. His skin gleamed under the soft light of the room, and the curve of his butt was... mesmerizing.

Nathaniel felt his heart skip several beats, his pulse racing miles away. He didn’t want to stare, didn’t want to feel this way, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sight in front of him.

The boy snapped his fingers, his playful smile returning.

“Hey, Nate, you're drooling. Like what you see?”

Nathaniel flushed, quickly clearing his throat.

“I—I’m not attracted to guys,” he stammered, trying to regain some semblance of control. “I’m not gay. I—I have a girlfriend. We’re supposed to get engaged soon.”

The boy laughed—a light, musical sound that seemed to mock Nathaniel’s protest.

“Sure, keep telling yourself that,” he said, his voice dripping with amusement. “But your body’s betraying you, Nate.”

Nathaniel took a deep, steadying breath, trying to compose himself.

“What’s your name?” he asked, desperate to shift the conversation.

The boy grabbed a towel, casually draping it around his waist.

“Name’s Paxton,” he said with a wink. “But you can call me Pax, pretty boy.”

Pax turned toward the bathroom, glancing back over his shoulder as he added, “And don’t call security while I’m showering, alright? I’ll be done in a sec.”

With another playful grin, he disappeared into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

Nathaniel stood there, staring at the closed door, his thoughts racing. Everything he knew about himself, everything he’d been so sure of, was now in question. His heart was still racing, his body buzzing with confusion, and the line between his reality and this strange new sensation blurred.

Who was this boy, and why had he stirred something in Nathaniel that he didn’t even know existed?

Nate slowly bent down, picking up the scattered clothes that had fallen, his hands trembling as he carefully placed them on the bed. His heart still pounded from the intense emotions that had taken control of him, leaving him confused and breathless. He glanced at the bathroom door, every step feeling hesitant, unsure of what was happening to him.

Just as he moved closer to the bathroom, a sudden knock on the door startled him out of his reverie. His breath caught in his throat, and he quickly straightened, rushing to the door, trying to compose himself. He opened it to reveal an older woman standing there, her face lit up with a kind smile.

“Good morning, Nathaniel,” she greeted cheerfully.

Nate stuttered, his words stumbling over one another as he replied, “G-good morning.”

The woman’s smile faltered slightly as she peered at him with concern.

“Are you alright?”

Nate swallowed hard, nodding a little too quickly.

“Yes, yes, I’m fine.”

She raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced.

“I just came to check on you. You’re usually up and out by now, telling me what you want for breakfast.”

Nate tried to gather himself, forcing a smile.

“Um... make me some delicious breakfast. And... bring it to my room.”

Her confusion deepened.

“Bring it to your room? You’ve never asked for that before.”

“Yeah, I just... felt like it,” Nate stammered, his voice growing more nervous. “And... make it double. I’m really hungry.”

Before she could respond, he quickly shut the door and leaned back against it, closing his eyes as he exhaled deeply, trying to steady his racing heart.

“Was that your mother?” a voice suddenly asked from behind him, causing Nate to jolt upright. He turned to see Paxton, still damp from his shower, standing in nothing but a towel, his wet hair clinging to his forehead, looking effortlessly sexy and utterly disarming.

“N-no... it’s my... it’s my nanny,” Nate stammered, staring at Paxton, who seemed even more appetizing, his body shimmering with droplets of water.

Paxton smirked, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

“Thanks for not telling on me,” he teased, taking slow, deliberate steps toward Nate, his voice dripping with seduction. “Now, how do you want me to repay you?”

Nate’s mouth opened, but no words came out. His heart thudded loudly in his chest as Paxton reached him, wrapping an arm around his waist, pulling him closer.

Paxton’s lips curled into a playful grin as he tilted Nate’s head slightly, his hand slipping behind Nate’s neck.

“Don’t worry,” he whispered seductively, leaning in until their lips were just inches apart.

Nate’s mind screamed to stop, to push him away, but his body didn’t listen. The moment their lips touched, it was like a jolt of electricity shot through him, setting his entire body on fire. At first, he hesitated, his lips barely moving, but then something inside him snapped. His mouth started moving against Paxton’s with a hunger and need he couldn’t understand or control.

The kiss was deep, sensual, and raw, awakening something primal within Nate that he hadn’t known existed. His eyes fluttered open as the kiss deepened, and a soft, involuntary moan escaped his throat. He felt Paxton’s lips curve into a smile as the kiss intensified, becoming something more than just physical. It was as if the world had melted away, leaving only the two of them, locked in this burning moment of desire.

Paxton opened his eyes slightly, sensing the eagerness in Nate’s kiss. He pulled back just a little, but Nate followed, pressing his lips harder, almost desperately, seeking more. When Paxton moved further away, Nate’s lips still moved as though he were still kissing him, his face a mixture of confusion and longing, until he closed the distance again, their mouths colliding.

Suddenly, Paxton broke the kiss, laughing softly as Nate's eyes snapped open, his face flushed and breathless.

“What are you doing?” Paxton teased, grinning. “You’re acting like someone who hasn’t been kissed in forever. Plus, didn’t you say you weren’t gay?”

Nate’s gaze was heavy with desire, his voice thick.

“I’m not, but... something about you... it’s making me act like this.”

Paxton raised an eyebrow, smirking.

“Oh? You wanna fuck me, don’t you?”

Nate’s mouth opened, but again, no words came out. His body was betraying him. Paxton’s hand moved down, brushing against Nate’s crotch, teasing.

“Your little friend down here says otherwise,” he whispered seductively, his fingers pressing lightly, causing Nate to gasp. “He’s pulsating. You want me.”

Without warning, Paxton grabbed Nate’s arm and pushed him back toward the bed. Nate fell onto the mattress, lying flat on his back, staring at Paxton with wide eyes as the boy seductively approached, crawling up his body with an animal-like grace. When their faces were inches apart again, Paxton leaned in and kissed him, deep and slow, his lips working against Nate’s in a way that felt both foreign and intoxicating.

Nate's trembling hands found their way to Paxton’s waist, pulling him closer, their kiss growing more intense, more desperate. His hands moved down to Paxton’s soft thigh as the boy moaned into his mouth, the sound sending waves of pleasure through Nate’s entire body. He had never felt anything this intense before, never experienced this kind of overwhelming, all-consuming need.

Just as things were heating up, there was a sudden knock on the door, followed by another, and then a voice calling from the other side.

“I’ve brought your breakfast,”

Nate broke the kiss, his heart racing.

“I told her to bring us breakfast,” he muttered, almost dazed.

Paxton grinned mischievously.

“How thoughtful of you,” he teased. “I am starving.”

Nate smiled sheepishly as he got off the bed, fixing his clothes.

“I’ll be right back,” he said, rushing to the door.

He opened it to find the older woman standing there with a tray, looking a bit surprised.

“I need to bring the tray inside,” she said, peering past him.

Nate chuckled nervously, shaking his head.

“No, no, I’ll take it. I’ve got it.”

She frowned suspiciously.

“Are you hiding something in there? Or... someone?”

Nate's eyes widened.

“No! No, I’m in a... a meeting.” He kissed her cheek quickly, thanked her, and took the tray, shutting the door before she could ask any more questions.

But when Nate turned back to the room, Paxton was gone. The towel he had been wearing was draped across the bed, but the boy himself had vanished.

Panic surged through Nate as he set the tray down and rushed to the bathroom, calling Paxton’s name. The room was empty, the boy’s clothes gone. He hurried to the balcony, leaning over the railing as he shouted,

“Paxton!” His voice echoed, but there was no response.

Far below, Paxton was already walking down the tarred road leading away from the mansion, his sneakers in hand and a stern expression on his face, leaving Nate with a strange, painful yearning.

To be continued…