---
She was still facedown on the bed, back arched, skin glistening under the soft spill of morning light.
I was on her. In her. Moving with a rhythm that didn't feel like mine—but something older, deeper, raw.
Her fingers clutched the sheets like they owed her something, muffling the moans that still found their way through. Every roll of my hips brought another gasp, another plea, another tremble in her thighs that sent heat spiraling through my spine.
"oh, Chloe..." I muttered, pressing my hand into the small of her back, deepening the angle. She moaned again—louder.
"I needed this," she breathed. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to—"
I didn't let her finish.
I gripped her waist tighter and pulled her up just enough so her back met my chest. She twisted her neck to kiss me, and our lips met sideways, messy and desperate. Her body still gripped me greedily.
And yet… through the heat, a strange guilt began to crawl in.
Madeline's name pulsed at the edge of my mind like a warning light.
I tried to shake it off.
Tried to focus on Chloe's hips rolling into mine, her breath panting against my cheek, her nails dragging down my forearm.
But I was split in two. Between the fire and the fallout.
Between the woman I had… and the one who owned me.
Then—
A knock.
Firm. Sharp. Familiar.
I froze. Chloe whimpered. "Don't stop…"
The knock again—then a voice.
"Chloe? You home?"
Madeline.
My blood iced over.
I pulled out fast. Chloe looked back, startled. "Wait—what—"
But I was already off the bed, grabbing clothes, my heart in my throat.
"Hide," I hissed.
She blinked. "Seriously?"
"Yes."
She groaned and rolled off the bed, grabbing the sheet as she darted into the bathroom.
I barely zipped up before I heard the key in the lock.
Too late.
The door opened. Madeline stepped in.
Hair tied up. Power heels. The scent of her perfume hit me like a punch to the chest. She looked every bit the boss I remembered… except her eyes lit up when she saw me.
"Missed me?" she smiled, and in one smooth move, she dropped her purse, kicked off her shoes, and leapt into my arms.
I caught her.
Because of course I did.
Her legs wrapped around my waist. Her lips pressed hot against my neck. Her hands tangled in my hair.
And I—
I kissed her back.
Because of course I did.
Even as I felt Chloe's breath stilling in the bathroom behind me.
Even as Madeline whispered, "Let's go to bed," and I carried her there like a husband who hadn't just betrayed her.
The guilt didn't stop me.
The heat never cooled.
And as I laid Madeline on the bed, I realized something terrifying.
I was no longer in control of anything.
---
Her skin was warm against my chest, her breath still ragged from laughter—or maybe tension. I wasn't sure anymore.
Madeline's back curved perfectly into me as she leaned over, brushing her damp hair to the side. Her clothes lay on the corner of the room tile, forgotten. What wasn't forgotten… was the way her body pressed into mine when she thanked me.
"You're surprisingly brave for a man who screams at office printers," she teased, glancing at me over her shoulder with eyes full of something dangerous.
I opened my mouth to reply, but her fingers curled around my wrist—gently, deliberately. She stepped closer. The towel she had wrapped around her earlier had vanished somewhere between the hallway and now.
"I hate being alone after a scare," she said softly, her voice dipping low.
My heartbeat thundered in my ears.
She took my hand and led me, slowly, into the bedroom. Sunlight spilled through the blinds, striping across white sheets and perfume bottles glinting on her dresser. She walked ahead, never looking back, but I couldn't tear my eyes away from her.
As she reached the edge of the bed, she paused and looked over her shoulder.
"You coming, or should I find another hero?"
Something in me snapped—maybe reason, maybe restraint. I stepped forward.
She didn't wait. She pulled me into her, and I caught myself with both hands against the headboard as she arched beneath me, sighing, skin to skin.
I told myself I should stop.
But she was already there, whispering my name.