Naomi’s cheerful voice suddenly stopped. She froze in the doorway, eyes wide as she took in the scene: Darian was looming over me, his body close, one hand holding my neck and the other cradling my face. My expression was clearly flushed and tear-streaked, and I had lost my professional composure. Naomi's gaze moved to the red panties clearly visible on the desk beside us.
The silence that followed was heavy. Naomi's expression changed from surprise to shock, then to a painful understanding. She realized what it looked like: not a therapy session, but a moment of intense, secret passion. Her mouth opened, then closed, her face growing pale.
Darian stood still and kept his gaze locked on mine. A slow, dangerous smirk appeared on his lips, as if Naomi's shocked interruption had perfectly e
