When she finally releases me, she sits back on her heels and wipes the corner of her mouth with her thumb. Smug. Satisfied. Like she just won a negotiation.
“Well,” she starts. “That was—”
I haul her to her feet and kiss her hard, tasting myself on her lips. Then I spin her around, bend her over the desk, and thrust inside her from behind.
She cries out, bracing herself on the surface. I set a punishing pace, driving into her over and over.
“You’re mine,” I growl against her ear. “Say it.”
“I’m yours.”
“Again.”
“I’m yours, Menlow. Only yours.”
I reach around and stroke her clit in time with my thrusts. She’s still sensitive from before, and it doesn’t take long before she’s climbing again.
“Come with me,” I command.
We shatter together as her walls clench around me while I spill inside her. The pleasure crashes through me in waves, leaving me breathless.
We stay like that for a long moment, bent over the desk, catching our breath. Finally, I pull out and help her straighten up, pressing a kiss to her shoulder.
I swear to God, this woman is going to be the death of me.
***
On Monday morning, I call an all-hands meeting. The conference room fills quickly. It seems everyone is curious about the unexpected summons. Kirsten sits near the back, trying to be inconspicuous. It doesn’t work.
“I’ll keep this brief,” I begin. “Most of you have probably heard by now that Kirsten Berry and I are married. The rumors are true.”
Whispers ripple through the room.
“What you may not know,” I continue, letting my voice harden, “is that Kirsten earned her position through merit alone. Her promotion happened before our marriage became public knowledge, and it was based entirely on her performance, her intelligence, and her contributions to this team.”
I sweep my gaze across the room, meeting every pair of eyes.
“If I hear anyone suggesting otherwise—if I hear so much as a whisper implying that my wife received special treatment—that person will answer to me directly. Is that understood?”
The room is silent. Everyone nods.
“Good.” I straighten my tie. “Get back to work.”
Chapter 19 - Kirsten
I never thought I’d get used to being stared at, but here I am.
The charity gala is in full swing, and everywhere I turn, someone is looking at me. Some glances are curious. Others are envious. A few are downright hostile. But Menlow’s hand rests on the small of my back, warm and steady, and somehow that makes it bearable.
“You’re doing great,” he whispers against my ear as we make our way through the crowd.
“I feel like an animal at the zoo.”
“A beautiful animal.”
“That doesn’t make it better.”
He chuckles and steers me toward a cluster of people near the bar. I recognize a few faces from the office. Others are strangers in expensive suits and designer gowns. The venue itself is stunning—a converted warehouse with soaring ceilings, crystal chandeliers, and enough flowers to stock a botanical garden. String lights crisscross overhead, and a jazz quartet plays in the corner.
