I want her conscious of every second. Every touch. Every choice she makes.
I kiss her again, slower, angling her mouth under mine. Her fingers slide into my hair. She pulls me closer.
Good.
Her body fits against mine like it always belonged there.
She whispers against my lips, “We shouldn’t…”
I kiss her once more.
“Yes,” I murmur. “We should.”
Her breath shudders.
I slide one hand down her spine, slow, soft, until it rests on her lower back, guiding her closer, pressing her gently against me.
She trembles.
“Do you want me to stop?” I ask, voice barely above breath.
She shakes her head.
That’s my permission.
I kiss her jaw, then her neck, tasting the soft skin there. She gasps, arches, clutches my shoulders harder.
“I want to take my time with you,” I whisper. “Not rushed. Not hidden. Not shameful.”
She inhales sharply.
“You deserve more than stolen minutes.”
Her eyes close.
“But right now…” I murmur, lips grazing her throat, “I’m going to take what I’ve been wanting all night.”
Her knees buckle.
I catch her easily.
Her voice is a whisper against my collar: “Please.”
Heat storms through me.
“Come here,” I murmur again, guiding her toward the table.
She goes willingly.
Perfect.
RUBY
He walks me backward, slow but firm, until the edge of the conference table meets the back of my thighs.
I gasp.
He leans in, one hand braced beside my hip, the other curving under my waist.
