She takes a deep breath.

“Look at me, Olivia.” I need to see into her eyes, need to see if she regrets it like I fear she does

She looks up, and the haunting depth in her gaze almost guts me. “Once wasn’t nearly enough,” she breathes.

In one heartbeat, I’ve pulled her into my arms, smashing her chest against mine. Her tongue darts out to tease her lower lip just before my mouth crashes against hers.

I need her out of this dress and bent over my desk as soon as fucking possible. Without breaking our kiss, I tug off her blazer and find the zipper at the back of her dress, drawing it down the graceful slope of her spine. Once she’s stripped down to just her nude lace bra and thong and her black stiletto heels, I spin her so she’s facing my desk.

Placing each of her palms on the desk, I say, “Hold on, baby.” Then I drop to my knees behind her and caress her round ass, giving it a playful swat.

She lets out a sharp yelp, more startled than in pain.

“Shh,” I tell her, smoothing my hand over the pink stinging spot. “Can you stay nice and quiet for me?”

Olivia nods, her gaze darting over to the door to my office. The very unlocked door where someone can come in at any moment.

I rub her pussy through the damp fabric of her thong and she lifts her ass, rocking her hips against my hand.

“So eager. Promise you can stay quiet?”

She nods again.

I lift the edge of her panties and push one finger into her snug channel. So deliciously tight and hot. I enjoy the view of watching my finger sink in, deeper and deeper, one knuckle disappearing after another, then slowly slide out again. She’s already breathing hard, and her inner walls grip me with every move.

Getting married has made me realize something. I don’t want an endless parade of one-night stands anymore. I want . . . intimacy. Domesticity. Someone to cook for and cuddle with, someone to share in my triumphs and keep my bed warm at night. I want a wife. I want Olivia.

But once again, a shadow falls over my thoughts. I’m still hiding the truth from her. I don’t know how she’ll react, how to explain things in a way that protects both her feelings and the company. And as long as I’m deceiving her, I can never have the true connection I’m craving. The secret of the heir clause will be a wall between us. Invisible to her, insurmountable to me.

I give myself a mental shake. Olivia is panting and rocking her hips in time with my motion, desperate for more. What the fuck is wrong with me? Olivia’s naked ass and pussy are right in my face and I can’t pay attention.

Focus, dumbass, I scream at myself. Your wife needs you. What kind of man would leave her hanging?

I withdraw my fingers—oh fuck, her little whimper of disappointment zings straight to my dick—press on her back until she lies flat on the desk with her ass raised, and plant my lips right over her clit. Just one hard suck pulls a wild cry from her lips. With a chuckle, I lean back on my heels.

“Sorry,” she whispers. “Please don’t stop. I’ll behave.”

I grin and dive in for more. Planting both hands on her ass cheeks, I part her wet lips with my thumbs so I can reach the spots that make her bite her lip as she fights to stay quiet.

I lick and suck until she’s a trembling, writhing mess. I don’t let up, mercilessly eating her pussy from behind. My fingers dig into her hips as I press my face harder into her. I need to be deeper. I need to be as close to Olivia as I can get, drowning in her taste and smell and hot, slick feel, and still it’s not enough.

She comes with a stifled moan, her chest heaving on my desk. I kiss her ass, her thighs, the back of her knees as she shudders, then rise to my feet.

Instead of thanking me, or making some dry remark like I’ve come to expect from her, Olivia immediately begins opening the front of my pants. Hell yeah. My belt hits the floor and she shoves my pants and boxers down to my knees.

She takes my cock in her hands and starts pumping while kissing my throat. She’s so damn sweet, so eager, it’s almost too much. I lift her by the hips and sit her on my desk. She’s still wearing her thong, but that’s no problem.

As she continues to stroke me, I step between her thighs and lift the elastic edge of her panties, pulling them all the way to the side so she’s exposed to me.

“Ready for more?” I ask, parting her delicately with my thumbs.

A whimper is the only affirmation I get.

I step closer and rub the head of my cock against her clit. Olivia gasps and looks down between us.

“You’re so sexy,” I say, rubbing myself along her heat, coating myself in her wetness.

She watches my eyes the entire time. It’s a thrill that she can’t keep her gaze off mine, but there’s something about it that scares me too. Like she’s going to see exactly how I feel about her, discover that my feelings for her run much deeper than fake husband and wife. Maybe this is what it means to love someone. It’s scary and uncertain, and you’re always terrified of fucking it up. But for me, it’s not a question of if I fuck it up. It’s when.

Focus, Noah.

I align the head of my cock and press forward the tiniest bit. Just the tip of me has entered her and I stop, realizing we’re without a condom. I swallow.

Does Olivia realize it too? Is she okay with this, or did she just not notice? Staying perfectly still, I thumb her clit again. She moans my name.

“Shh, baby.” I pet her hair back from her face and kiss her lips.

There’s something captivating about this moment. Broad daylight pouring through the window, halogen lights burning overhead. I can see every part of her. It’s intimate and illicit, and that’s a huge turn-on.