Elena’s fingers tightened around her phone as she stood frozen in the sleek marble lobby of Marcus’s office building. Victoria’s text glowed innocently on the screen, each word twisting like a knife wrapped in silk: Sweetie, I’m home early and making your favorite pasta tonight! Marcus said he’ll be home by 6. Can’t wait for a nice family dinner. You two have been so close lately — it makes me so happy.
The afterglow from the desk still hummed between her legs — Marcus’s fresh load warm and slippery inside her — but the guilt hit like ice water. She looked up. Marcus was watching her from across the lobby near the elevators, his suit jacket slung over one shoulder, tie loosened. His expression was dark, unreadable, but his eyes burned with that same possessive hunger.
He crossed to her i
