Damien Blackwood stood just outside the break-room door, one shoulder pressed against the wall, coffee cup forgotten in his hand, when Victor's voice drifted out clear as day.
"You smell incredible today, Lila," Victor said, that easy half-smile probably already tugging at his lips. "That scent suits you perfectly after a long night."
Damien's fingers tightened around the paper cup until the cardboard dented inward, hot liquid sloshing against the rim. He didn't move. He just listened, jaw locked so tight the muscle jumped under his skin.
Lila's reply came soft, polite, the way she always sounded in front of everyone else. "Victor, you're trouble this morning. Don't you have actual work to do?"
Damien pushed the door open with his shoulder, stepping inside like he owned every inch of the room. Victor leaned against the counter, arms crossed, that magazine-perfect hair catching the light. Lila stood a few feet away, plate in hand, a half-eaten chocolate croissant on it.
"Victor," Damien said, voice low and even as he set his coffee down hard on the counter. "Funny running into you here. Again."
Victor straightened, flashing that same charming grin he always wore like armor. "Big brother. Just grabbing a quick bite with your favorite assistant. She looked like she needed company."
Lila's eyes flicked to Damien, fingers tightening on the edge of her plate. "It's nothing. Victor brought coffee earlier. We were just talking."
Damien crossed the small space in two strides, stopping right beside her, close enough that his arm brushed hers. "Talking. About what exactly?" He turned his head, gray eyes locked on Victor. "Because it sounded a lot like you were commenting on how my wife smells after a long night."
Victor laughed, short and bright, reaching for a napkin and wiping his hands slowly. "Whoa, easy. I was just being friendly. Lila always smells great. That perfume she wears? It's killer."
Lila set her plate down with a soft clack, fingers brushing Damien's sleeve. "Damien, not here. Please."
Damien's hand found the small of her back, palm pressing firm through her silk blouse. "No, let's hear it, Victor. You seem real interested in my assistant lately. First the coffee, then the pastry, now you're sniffing around her scent. You got something to say to me?"
Victor held up both hands, still smiling, but his eyes sharpened. "I'm just looking out for her, Damien. You keep her locked up in meetings and late nights. Figured she could use a friendly face."
Damien's fingers flexed on Lila's back, pulling her a fraction closer. "She's got a face she likes just fine. Mine. So back off."
Lila turned toward him, hand landing on his chest, fingers curling into his shirt. "Damien, stop. Victor was only being nice. Let it go."
Victor chuckled again, pushing off the counter. "See? Even Lila's telling you to relax. Catch you later, Lila. Enjoy the rest of that croissant." He gave a little wave and walked out, door swinging shut behind him.
The second the door closed Damien spun Lila toward him, backing her against the counter, hands gripping her hips. "He's getting too comfortable," he said, voice rough as he leaned in, forehead almost touching hers. "Commenting on how you smell after a long night? That's my line. That's my wife he's talking about."
Lila's breath hitched, hands sliding up to grip his tie. "He doesn't know anything. He's just flirting because that's what Victor does. Charming smile, easy laugh, always the nice brother."
Damien's jaw tightened, one hand sliding up her side, thumb brushing the underside of her breast through her blouse. "I don't care what he does with anyone else. He doesn't get to do it with you. You're mine, Lila Chen. My wife. My secret. And I'm tired of pretending I don't want to drag you into the nearest room every time he looks at you like that."
She tugged his tie, pulling his mouth closer. "Then stop pretending for five minutes and take me somewhere. Right now. Show me I'm yours before the next meeting starts."
Damien glanced at the clock on the wall, then grabbed her hand, lacing their fingers tight. "Boardroom. It's soundproof. Come on."
He pulled her down the hall, walked them both inside the empty boardroom, and locked the door with a loud click. The long mahogany table gleamed under the recessed lights, chairs pushed in neat rows.
Lila backed toward the table, hips bumping the edge. "Lock it again. Double-check."
He twisted the lock a second time, then crossed the room in three strides, hands framing her face. "You're mine," he said, voice low and rough as he kissed her hard, tongue sliding against hers. "Say it while I take you right here on this table where every board member sits."
Lila moaned into his mouth, fingers working his belt open fast. "I'm yours, Damien. Your wife. Your secret wife. Even when Victor smiles at me like he wants something. I'm still yours."
He lifted her onto the table, skirt bunching at her hips, and pushed her back until she lay across the cool wood. "Tell me you want me to fuck you here," he growled, yanking his belt free and shoving his pants down. "Tell me you need your husband to remind you who you belong to."
Lila reached for him, legs parting, heels digging into the edge of the table. "I need you. Right now. Fuck me hard, Damien. Make me feel you for the rest of the day every time I sit in a meeting."
He slid into her in one deep thrust, hands gripping her thighs, pulling her to the very edge. "Like this?" he panted, hips snapping forward. "Like I own every inch of you?"
"Yes God, yes," she gasped, back arching off the table, fingers clutching the edge above her head. "Harder. I want to feel you tomorrow when Victor tries to flirt again."
Damien groaned, leaning over her, one hand braced beside her head, the other sliding between them to circle her. "He doesn't get to touch you. Not your arm, not your laugh, not your scent. Only I get to make you sound like this." His hips drove deeper, faster, the table creaking under them. "Say my name, baby. Say it loud enough that if the walls weren't soundproof everyone would know exactly who's fucking his wife on the boardroom table."
"Damien," she cried out, legs locking around his waist. "Damien don't stop I'm yours, only yours. My husband. My everything."
He kissed her messy and deep, tongue matching every thrust. "That's my girl. My perfect wife. Come for me right here where I have to sit across from Victor in twenty minutes and pretend I don't want to kill him for looking at you."
Lila shattered around him, body tightening, nails digging into his shoulders through his shirt, his name breaking on her lips. Damien followed right after, burying himself deep, groaning against her neck as he came.
They stayed locked together, breathing hard, his weight warm over her.
He kissed her slow and soft, thumb stroking her cheek. "I love you," he whispered, forehead pressed to hers. "Love you so much it makes me crazy when he even looks at you."
Lila smiled against his mouth, fingers tracing his jaw. "I love you too. Now help me fix my skirt before someone wonders where we disappeared to."
They straightened their clothes together, hands brushing, stealing quick kisses between every button and zipper.
Damien smoothed her hair back into place, then kissed her once more, slow and deep. "You're mine. Always."
The boardroom door clicked open behind them.
Victor stood there, folder in hand, that familiar half-smil
e already curving his lips. "Am I interrupting something important?"