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“Condom…” she whimpered, but I hadn’t come prepared for this.

I shook my head, taking hold of her thighs and lifting her higher. “I don’t have one,” I breathed into her ear. “And I can’t wait. Not with you smelling like that…” My lips found her ear as her hand found my cock and started stroking.

“God, Dominic,” she muttered like she knew this was a mistake, but she guided my length to her center anyway.

She wrapped her legs around my waist, locking us together.

There was no way back now. I pulled her toward me as I pressed against her slick entrance.

Savannah bit her lip, arching her back in silent invitation.

Her eyes were wild, pupils dilated with lust and need.

This woman who’d just confidently led a strategy meeting was reduced to a moaning mass of desire in my arms.

I broke the silence first, sliding inch by agonizingly slow inch into her body, our breaths coming hard and fast in counterpoint with each respective thrust. She was tight and still after all these years, so wet and warm, like she’d been made for me.

Savannah gasped and bit my lower lip. Her hands clung to the lapels of my suit jacket.

I had to grit my teeth to hold back and not lose control so soon, because she was incredible, or maybe it was the build-up the last twenty-four hours.

Instead, I began to move inside her, maintaining a slow and sensual rhythm that had us both moaning in earnest.

“Oh God, Dominic,” she grunted, writhing against me as her heels dug into the backs of my legs. “Harder.”

I obliged without hesitation, picking up the pace and pulling her in tighter so I could plunge even deeper.

Her breath hitched and her head fell back as she clung to my shoulders.

Screw the papers and projections that littered the table—all that mattered now was her supple thighs around my waist and her nails digging into the back of my neck.

The room was a blur around us, muted by lust and need. I could still smell her perfume, her arousal mingling with mine in a heady cocktail that clouded my senses. All I wanted was to claim every part of her, marking her as mine in a way that went beyond what we had six years ago.

The table rocked beneath us as our bodies collided, the only sound in the room the muffled slap of our thighs and both of us panting for air.

I burrowed my face into her neck, inhaling her intoxicating scent as I ground my hips against hers, desperate to get as close as possible.

Her legs tightened around my waist, her nails biting into my skin, and I didn’t care. I wanted to feel her everywhere.

“Savannah,” I growled into her neck, my control slipping fast. “God, I missed you.”

She moaned in reply, her eyes squeezed shut, lips parted, and it sent a jolt of lust into my groin.

I tangled one hand in her hair and pulled it down hard until her neck arched back.

The guttural grunts that accompanied her body twitching told me she was coming, and the thought of it was too much for me.

“Savannah,” I groaned, clenching my teeth as I attempted to hold back my orgasm.

Her tight, wet heat was a thousand pleasures wrapped into one, and it was taking every ounce of restraint I had not to lose control.

“Slow down, babe,” I panted, my grip on her hips tightening.

But she wasn’t listening. Savannah’s nails raked the back of my neck, her entire body writhing against mine in a sensual frenzy.

The pleasure was so intense that I could feel it in every single nerve ending in my body.

My heart hammering in my chest, I clutched her hips and drove into her with a few hard pumps before I exploded.

The white-hot pleasure blinded me for a second.

I lost control, pumping into her and gritting my teeth to avoid growling too loudly.

We were a tangle of limbs and heavy breathing, our bodies still joined as the world outside our passionate cocoon carried on, oblivious.

Scent of sex mingled with her expensive perfume and my sweat, and I found my way to her lips again.

I wanted to stay like this forever, locked together in this stolen moment of mind-blowing ecstasy.

But it couldn’t last.

Reluctantly, I pulled out and zipped my pants while Savannah hastily fixed her clothes, both of us avoiding eye contact as if it would shatter the illusion of what just happened. Nerves danced in my stomach, anticipating her reaction to this impulsive act.

We dressed again, slowly finding our way back to professional—or something like it. Her skirt was all wrinkled, and she fixed it without looking at me. I adjusted my collar, straightened my cuffs, still watching her.

“You mentioned earlier that I was ‘not exactly the people’s billionaire,’” I said, straightening my cuffs. “So let me ask you something. What kind of story changes that?”

She paused, brows furrowed. “Depends who you’re trying to convince.” Her hands lingered on her portfolio.

“Everyone,” I said. “Investors. Press. Board. You.”

She gave a faint scoff. “Then you need a softer edge. Human interest.”

“Soften me.”

She blinked. “What?”

“Give me a story the press will eat up. Something more than cold stats and press releases.”

She hesitated, then said, “Play the stability angle. Position yourself as grounded. Family values.”

There it was—a tell. Barely more than a shift in her spine and a change in her voice. Her eyes though, they darkened to inky depths that hid something just outside of my reach.

“Family values?”

She shrugged, not looking at me. “It tests well.” The way she avoided eye contact you’d have thought I had the plague or leprosy.

“And you think I can pull that off?”

“Anyone can. If they sell it right,” she said, but her tone was brittle, and I could see the line she drew in the sand. I filed it away. She gathered her things. “I’ll revise the talking points,” she said. “Email by noon.”

I opened the door for her. She left without looking back.

But something had shifted under the surface, and I’d be damned if I didn’t dig until I found out what it was.