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"Show me," I growl against her lips before our mouths collide in a fevered kiss. She tastes like the caramel latte she nursed earlier, sweet and addictive. It doesn't take long before our kisses turn into something more primal, more urgent.
Clothes are shed without ceremony, and soon, Abby's back is against the cold, hard surface of the desk. It’s a stark contrast to the heat we generate together. As I enter her, the sleek lines of professionalism in our office blur into a mess of passion. I move with a purpose, each thrust punctuating the silent promises of forever we make in the quiet afterglow of our bedroom every night.
"Merrick," Abby moans, her legs wrapped tightly around me. She meets me stroke for stroke, a perfect symphony of lust and love.
"Abby..." I groan her name like a mantra, feeling the familiar tightening coil of pleasure. We chase our climax together, breathless and unabashed in our need for one another.
As we crest the wave, our climax shatters through us, a shared explosion of ecstasy that seems to shake the very foundations of the office building. I collapse onto her, our sweat-mingled bodies heaving, trying to catch lost breaths.
"Wow," she breathes out, her fingers lazily drawing circles on my back.
"Wow, indeed," I agree, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. I pull off her, but keep her close, needing the contact.
"Partner in life and in business," she murmurs, her head resting against my chest.
"Best damn partnership I've ever had," I reply, my hand finding hers and giving it a squeeze.
"Ready to go again, Mr. Mason?" Abby asks, the glint in her eyes promising round two.
"Always, Mrs. Mason," I quip back, capturing her lips in another passionate kiss—a promise sealed, our future laid bare in the heart of our shared empire.
Always.
