Matias
The mahogany table was cold beneath her, but the heat radiating between us was enough to warp the varnish. I held her there for a long moment after the kiss ended, my forehead resting against hers, our breath mingling in the quiet, spacious boardroom. "Husband," she whispered, her fingers lightly tracing the sharp line of my jaw, moving with that practiced, familiar gentleness that always managed to disarm me completely. "Your heart is doing that frantic little dance again. Are you still showing off for an empty room?"
"There's an audience of one that matters," I murmured, my hands sliding from her hips to cup the back of her thighs, lifting her slightly so she was securely nestled against me. "And she happens to be sitting on a table that my compliance officers explicitly stated
