Chapter 13
The tension in the office was almost palpable. The air hung thick with unspoken words and calculated glances. The crisis plaguing the party demanded quick responses and razor-sharp strategies, but all I could think about was him.
Fernando sat at the head of the table, listening intently to his allies’ arguments, his expression guarded, his posture rigid. Even so, he exuded a calm that made everyone in the room hang on his words as if waiting for a verdict.
I should have been focused on the notes, on analyzing every piece of data, but my attention kept drifting. The way he pressed his fingers against his chin, the shadow of stubble on his jaw, his tie slightly crooked as if it had been tugged loose in a hurry…
My body still remembered his touch, the way his hands had explored me in that cramped office at the party.
And as if sensing my gaze burning into his skin, he looked up and met my eyes.
For a second—just one second—everything around us disappeared.
There was no crisis, no party, no political alliances or risks. Just the two of us and the electricity crackling in the air.
Fernando blinked slowly—a subtle movement, but one that made my stomach drop.
I knew in that instant.
This was going to happen again.
And it wouldn’t be long.
“Let’s wrap this up.” His voice was firm, cutting off the discussions. “I want updated reports in two hours. You’re dismissed.”
Chairs scraped against the floor as the advisors began to disperse. I grabbed my folder and made to leave as well, but his voice stopped me.
“Glória, stay.”
My eyes met his, and I saw the silent command in them.
My heart raced.
I waited until the last person left the room before turning to face him.
He was leaning against the table, arms crossed, expression serious.
“You know what they’re saying?”
“That you need a first lady?” My voice came out steady, but I felt the lump in my throat.
“Yes.” He uncrossed his arms and walked toward me. “But not just anyone. They insist it has to be a woman who represents something. A feminist leader, a symbol of the fight.”
I let out a low, bitter laugh.
“Sounds perfect. A woman handpicked to boost your public image.”
“You’re angry.”
“I’m lucid, Fernando. You should try it.”
He moved closer until I could feel the heat radiating from his body.
“I don’t want some woman chosen for strategy.”
I held my breath.
“What do you want, then?”
He raised his hand and traced the line of my jaw with his fingertips.
“I want you.”
My heart nearly stopped.
“That doesn’t change anything.”
“It changes everything.”
I stepped back.
“This is crazy.”
“It always was.”
And then, before I could react, he pulled me close, pressing our bodies together with a force that knocked the breath out of me.
The kiss was fierce, urgent, full of desperation and need—his lips hot and hungry as they devoured mine, his tongue sweeping into my mouth in a rhythm that left me dizzy.
My hands flew to his hair, fingers tangling in the dark strands, pulling him even closer as I bit his lower lip, drawing a low growl that vibrated against my skin.
He lifted me easily, his large hands gripping my waist, and set me on the conference table, sweeping papers and folders aside with an impatient gesture—the sound of them hitting the floor echoing through the office.
My entire body was on fire. Every touch, every muffled moan I let out, every press of his hot lips against my neck made me tremble with desire.
He kissed my collarbone, sucking lightly, then returned to my mouth, the kiss slower now, deeper, as if he wanted to consume me whole.
“Someone could walk in,” I murmured against his mouth, my heart racing, the risk pulsing through my veins.
“Then be quick,” he replied, his voice hoarse and thick with desire, his dark eyes gleaming as he stared at me, a wicked smile curving his lips before he kissed me again—harder, deeper.
And then I stopped thinking.
He slid his hands down my legs, his firm fingers pulling my stockings to my ankles with urgent precision, the fabric grazing my sensitive skin as I spread my thighs wider for him.
My skirt rode up with an urgent tug of his hands, cool air hitting my flushed skin before he positioned himself between my legs, his hardness pressing right where I needed it most. “You’re killing me,” he whispered against my lips, kissing me again, his tongue dancing with mine as he worked his belt open with one hand, the other gripping my ass to pull me against him.
I moaned low into the kiss, his hands guiding me, and then he lowered his pants just enough to free his cock—thick, hot, throbbing. He kissed me once more, slow and wet, before pushing my panties aside and sliding into me with a firm thrust, filling me completely.
“Fuck,” slipped from my lips in a whisper, and he swallowed the sound with another kiss, his lips pressed to mine as he started to move—strong, deep thrusts that made the table creak beneath us.
Each thrust sent a shock of pleasure through me, his cock stretching me, claiming me, while he kissed me relentlessly—my neck, my mouth, my chin, always finding his way back to my lips like he couldn’t bear to pull away.
“You’re so fucking hot,” he murmured between kisses, his voice rough with effort, and I dug my fingers into his shoulders, my legs wrapping around his waist to pull him deeper.
The heat built fast, the friction of our bodies driving me toward the edge, and when he slid a hand between us, his thumb circling my clit in quick, tight strokes, I shattered.
The orgasm ripped through me like wildfire, making me arch against him, my muscles clenching around his cock as I came, moaning low against his mouth, the kiss swallowing my cry.
He never stopped kissing me, his tongue tangling with mine as he picked up the pace, his hips driving into me harder, faster, until he came with a hoarse grunt, his cock pulsing inside me.
He held me there, still kissing me, his lips soft now, slow, as our bodies trembled together, slick with sweat.
The world outside could be on fire. The party could be crumbling. But there, on that conference table, with papers scattered everywhere and the taste of him still in my mouth, all that mattered was the way he possessed me. And for the first time, I didn’t want to fight it.