It's late afternoon and you're sitting in yet another meeting. The conference room table is littered with papers and surrounded by businesslike people attentively listening as your boss goes on and on. You, on the other hand, are having trouble keeping your eyes open, much less paying attention to what's being said.
Between blinks, you see a man standing on the other side of the room where there wasn't one before. You rub your eyes and the figure becomes clear. Ares? There's no mistaking the tall leather clad figure leaning casually against the wall. You glance around to see how everyone else is reacting to this, but they're not reacting. In fact, they're not moving at all; frozen in place in mid-phrase.
You look back to Ares and he smiles that evil, seductive smile. Stunned, your eyes follow him as he moves slowly around the table and you turn in your chair until he stops right in front of you. He leans close, placing his hands on the arms of your chair.
"Time for a break?" It's half question and half statement, but you have no chance to respond as he captures your mouth with his.
Your knees are weak as he pulls you to your feet. Your arms find their way around his neck, fingers twining in the silky curls as his mouth moves down your body. Vaguely you realize that your clothes and his have disappeared and you move your hands to explore hardened muscles.
Suddenly, you're lying on your back in the middle of the table. The papers and equipment are gone. Momentarily you realize that your coworkers are still there, and you hope they really are frozen, but all coherent thought ceases as the war god reclaims your full attention.
Without further preparation he enters you, hands and mouth caressing your breasts as he fills your body. Unconsciously, you respond to his rhythm, touching whatever part of him you can reach as he slowly brings you to a mind-shattering crest.
You return to your senses to see him leaning over you, a smug expression on his face. As you start to speak, he places a finger on your lips and shakes his head.
Rising, he helps you to your feet and you find yourself fully clothed. You sink slowly down into your chair as you watch him walk back around the table. From the other side of the room he turns and winks before disappearing.
You're startled by the sound of a voice - your boss taking up where he left off. Everything looks the same and no-one seems affected. You shake your head. Maybe it's time to find a new job...
That evening, when you get home from work, he's waiting; lounging in a chair like he belongs in your home.
"What is going on?" You finally have a chance to speak.
He stands up and walks toward you, circling you once with an assessing gaze before he stops right in front of you, so that you're looking directly up into his eyes.
"You've been chosen." That voice. Those eyes.
"Chosen to do what?" You're trying not to let him see just how much he's affecting you.
"It doesn't matter." (How did he know what you were really thinking?) "You're not ready yet." (Disappointment washes over you.) "Find the right teachers. Prepare yourself for me."
Hope mingles with desire as he leans forward. You close your eyes as you feel the pressure on your lips. When you open them again you're alone, but that's okay - you have work to do.