I push off my desk with a sigh and walk out of my office, eager for a glimpse of my wife but unsure what excuse to use to see her. Ever since I learned about my grandmother’s illness, I’ve been uneasy. Nothing soothes me like my wife can, and being so far apart today is making me miserable.

I’m absentminded as I make coffee for myself and Raya, startling the entire secretarial team once again. Every time I walk into the pantry to make my own coffee instead of asking the robots for it, they rush over to assist, endlessly irritating me. It took three weeks of me refusing their help for them to stop asking, and each time, I wish I could explain that I’m just a husband wanting to make coffee for my wife. No one knows exactly how she likes her coffee, and I know she feels too embarrassed to ask our robots for an oat milk and honeycomb cappuccino with a dash of cinnamon sugar. I’m on autopilot as I reach for the fresh honeycombs I had flown in from New Zealand this morning, just for Raya, hoping to put a smile on her face.

My lips tug up at the edges when I faintly hear the sound of her voice, only to turn the corner and replace Adam handing her a coffee cup from her favorite coffeeshop, a few blocks down. She smiles at him, and something dark twists in my stomach when I notice the way her gorgeous brown eyes light up as she takes a sip.

He shakes his head at something she says and leans in to brush something off her arm. My heart aches as I watch the way he dances around my wife, the way he looks at her. The bond between them seems unshakeable, and it fucking guts me. She still hasn’t told him about us, and I can pretty much guess why that is — she doesn’t want him to know she’s no longer single. If I can’t love her the way she wants me to, will she turn to him?

I grit my teeth and walk up to them, placing the coffee I made right next to Adam’s coffee on Raya’s desk. “Mr. Windsor,” Amy says, her eyes widening.

I can tell that Raya’s team is flustered by my continuous involvement, but so far they’ve written it off as the behavior of a doting husband trying to ensure everything is on track with his wife’s gift. They just don’t quite realize that the woman I’m doting on is one of them.

I smile at the team as I inconspicuously pick up Adam’s coffee and raise it to my lips so Raya’s lipstick stain aligns perfectly. Goddamn. It isn’t a fresh honeycomb, but it’s honey flavored. That fucker knows my wife’s favorites, and I fucking hate that. “Just checking in on the progress you’ve made,” I bullshit, smiling as Adam throws me an irritated look, his gaze moving between the cup in my hands and my face.

It isn’t until I catch Raya’s worried look that I realize I just drank something I didn’t watch someone make, and I did it without a second thought. I glance at the cup and smile to myself. When I look back at my wife, she’s smiling too, a hint of pride in her gaze. She has no idea what it means to me to have her quiet support, how much I’ve come to rely on her. Raya doesn’t understand that drinking her coffee felt safe, and no one has made me feel that way in years.

Adam leans in to whisper something in her ear, and she shakes her head as she lifts the cup I brought her, taking a sip. She smiles to herself, and that smile… it’s mine, but it’s directed at him.

“Raya,” I say, my tone harsh as I push off the side of her desk. “Come give me a full overview of the team’s progress in five minutes.”

“Oh, I can do that,” Adam says, and I pause, turning back to face him, my annoyance rising even further when I notice the way my wife has her hand wrapped around his arm as she shakes her head.

“Of course, Mr. Windsor,” she says, before I can even say anything. She smiles at me politely, not realizing how much that professionalism of hers is getting on my nerves. I want her to lose her composure the way she makes me lose mine.

“Five minutes,” I remind her.

I’m fucking seething as I walk back into my office, my mind replaying the way she smiled at him, the way her eyes lit up for him. My anger only increases as minute after minute passes, a knock finally sounding on my door ten minutes later.

Raya walks in with a tablet in her hand, and I lean back in my seat. “Close the door.”

Her eyes widen as she does as told, taking the edge off my annoyance. My wife bites down on her lip and leans against the closed door, knowing full well how much I love that tight black pencil skirt she’s wearing, her cream blouse exposing the top of her breasts in the most enticing way. Her breathing accelerates as I take my time watching her, undressing her with my eyes.

I tap my finger against my desk and beckon her closer with a simple tilt of my head. She inhales sharply as she obeys my silent command, her gaze darkening. Raya pauses in front of me, and I smirk when I notice the way she presses her thighs together.

She gasps when I turn her around and grab her hips to bend her over my desk, my palm on her lower back to keep her in place. “Give me your update,” I demand as I push her legs apart so I can sit between them, her sexy ass on display for me.

“Someone could walk in at any moment,” she says, her voice high pitched, panicked.

“Then you’d better talk quickly,” I murmur, my hands roaming over her ass appreciatively.

“We, um… we finished both the mixing and dispensing parts.” Her breath hitches when I push her skirt up, my hands sliding over her tights. “A-Along with the cooling system.”

A needy whimper leaves her lips when I rip her tights at the crotch, revealing her silky red thong, a beautiful wet spot betraying her need. “That’s wonderful,” I tell her as I run my fingers over the fabric teasingly. “But do all the individual components work together, and do they work together cohesively?”

She rotates her hips in an attempt to direct my fingers, and I grin as I lean in and bite her soft skin. Raya moans loudly, the sound music to my ears. “Well, does it work?” I ask as I knead her perfect ass.

“N-No.”

“No?” I repeat as I shove her underwear aside, loving the little desperate sounds she rewards me with. I smirk as I lean in and blow against her pussy softly, teasing her. “If it doesn’t work, you should be fixing it, shouldn’t you? Why were you smiling at Adam and drinking coffee with him when you should’ve been working?”

I drag a finger right along the middle, coating it in wetness. “You’re jealous,” she says, sounding fucking delighted.

“Me? Jealous?” I push two fingers into her and curl them, pressing them right against her g-spot ruthlessly. She moans, all coherent thought leaving her. I chuckle as I massage her pussy the way she likes it. “He might know how you like your coffee, but he doesn’t know what makes you moan. You’re mine, Raya. Remember that.”

I lean in and brush the tip of my tongue over her clit, driving her wild. She tries to move closer, but I keep her pressed against my desk. “Don’t you dare forget who this pussy belongs to,” I warn, before swiftly bringing her close to an orgasm, utilizing every single thing I’ve learned about her body.

“Please, Lex,” she begs, and I smirk as I pull away, fingering her slowly, leisurely, not even brushing that sensitive part inside her. “You can’t do this to me,” she says, her tone becoming aggravated. “Don’t tease me like that.”

“No?” I ask, pulling my fingers out of her altogether. “Don’t make me jealous and I won’t have to.”

She arches her back and looks over her shoulder, presenting me with the prettiest sight I’ve ever seen. My wife bent over my desk with her skirt pushed up to her hips, her tights torn, her pussy dripping… and that sexy fucking look on her face. “Please,” she says, pouting. “I’ll be good, Lex.”

I can’t fucking deny her, and she knows it. It’s funny how I act like I’m in control when we both know I lost everything I have to her long ago. “You’ll be good for me?” I place my fingers back on her pussy, and her eyes fall closed. “Then tell me who you belong to.”

“You,” she moans, her hips shifting as much as I allow her to. “I belong to you, Lexington Windsor. Forever and always.”

Fuck. I lean in and swirl my tongue over her swollen clit, giving her what she needs. My gorgeous wife comes for me, and it’s such a rush to experience the way her pussy clamps down on my fingers.

Raya looks over her shoulder, her cheeks flushed. “Fuck me,” she says. “Take me, Lex. I need you.”

Goddamn. She’ll be the death of me. My heart is racing as I rise to my feet and unbuckle my belt swiftly. She licks her lips when I pull my cock out, and I smirk as I lean in to grab her hair with one hand. The way she arches her back as I take hold of her hair and pull is fucking beautiful. “My perfect wife,” I murmur, pushing the tip in. “Always so ready for my cock, aren’t you?”

She tries to get me in deeper, and I grin as I lean over her and ball my hand in her hair, my lips brushing over her ear. “Patience, baby. You have to earn this cock.”

“I don’t,” she tells me, turning so her lips brush against mine. “I own that cock.”

I chuckle as I kiss her and push all the way inside her, swallowing her moans. “You do, don’t you?” I ask as I straighten and take hold of her hips. “You own me, Raya. Every fucking inch of me, and you fucking know it.”

I tighten my grip on her hips as I fuck her hard and slow, loving the way she whispers my name over and over again as I push her to the brink of another orgasm, getting the angle just right. “I can’t,” she says, moments before she does. My pretty wife comes all over my cock, and my eyes fall closed when she takes me right over the edge with her.

I’m panting as I pull out of her and immediately push my cum deeper inside her. “Sit down next to him with your husband’s cum soaking your panties, little fairy. Drink his coffee, smile at him, make me jealous. Do whatever you want, Raya, but do it with my cum dripping out of that beautiful pussy.”

Her gaze roams over my face, and something flickers through her eyes as I pull her skirt down before tidying my own clothes. “I love you,” she says, catching me by surprise. She turns to face me and cups my face, our eyes locking. “I love you, Lex. Only you.”

I love you, too. So fucking much it hurts. The words are at the tip of my tongue, but I’m scared to say them, scared to jinx this thing between us, so I just drop my forehead to hers. “You know I’m yours, right?” I ask, needing her to understand.

Her lips brush against mine, and she kisses me softly. “I know,” she whispers against my mouth, and my heart fucking soars. She’s everything, and fuck, I don’t deserve her.

For years, I was certain I couldn’t let anyone in, and then she came along, shattering all my walls with one single touch. Now here I am, wondering how to keep her by my side when I know I’ll never be enough.

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