But they both knew. Her own hand drifted downward, fingers seeking the swollen ache of her clit. He simply studied her, his sharp gaze unreadable, the silence stretching until every nerve in her body felt stretched taut. Large, warm, and firm through the silky fabric of her blouse. Claire shattered first. “Come in,” she called, smoothing a hand down her navy blue pencil skirt. Claire didn’t acknowledge her. A deep warmth curled low in her stomach at the thought. “Quiet, Claire,” he warned, voice edged with amusement. Nathan noticed. It was overwhelming, intoxicating. She reached for a tissue from the box on her desk, making quick work of cleaning herself up before tugging her blouse back into place. The printer hummed to life. She straightened her spine, smoothing her hair as she reached for the freshly printed pages, falling seamlessly back into professionalism. Nathan, for his part, was already back in his usual state of calm authority. Claire shattered first. A low, rough groan rumbled from his chest as he thrust one final time, burying himself deep,
