Chapter 43: Quality Time

"You’re not the type to stop a pregnant wife from spending quality time with their husband, right?"

The question settles into the space between us.

Xue Lian’s face does something interesting then, not a dramatic shift, more like watching ice crack under pressure. Color creeps up his neck in patches, spreading across his cheeks, and I can’t tell if it’s anger making him flush or embarrassment at being cornered so neatly in front of Bael.

His fingers press white against the file he’s holding, knuckles standing out for a breath before he forces them to relax, smoothing his grip like he can smooth away what just happened.

Bael is still sitting there looking perfectly composed, but there’s a slight curve at the corner of his mouth that he’s not quite hiding, the kind of almost-smile that says he’s enjoying every second of this.

He leans back in his chair, fingers tapping once against the armrest before going still, and when he speaks his tone is light, almost apologetic in a way that fools absolutely no one.

"Ah, I’m sorry, Xue Lian. It seems we’ll have to reschedule."

A pause, just long enough to let that sit.

Then his gaze flicks up to me and that amusement deepens into something warmer, something that makes my stomach do an inconvenient flip.

"My husband here is running out of patience, you see."

Oh shit.

Heat floods my face so fast I feel dizzy with it, my ears burning in a way that has nothing to do with the temperature in this office.

That’s not what I meant, not even close, I just wanted to knock that smug look off Xue Lian’s face, wanted him to remember exactly whose ring Bael is wearing and who’s standing here with a hand on his shoulder like they belong.

But now Bael’s twisted it into something else entirely and I can feel myself turning red from my neck to my hairline.

Xue Lian takes a slow breath, the kind that’s meant to center yourself when you want to throw something, and by the time he looks at me again his expression has smoothed back into something cooler, more controlled, like he’s sealed over that crack I just put there.

"Of course," he says, voice so even it almost sounds genuine, "I wouldn’t want to interrupt."

He stands with deliberate care, gathering his file and tucking it under one arm with the precision of someone who’s using the movement to buy time, to collect himself before he does something he’ll regret.

Then he stops.

Just for a second.

His eyes move between us, catching on where my hand is still resting against Bael’s shoulder, and when they settle back on me there’s something sharp underneath the politeness.

"I didn’t realize you needed so much attention."

The words are courteous enough but the delivery isn’t, each syllable carrying weight that has nothing to do with what he’s actually saying.

I smile at him anyway, keeping it light and easy like I haven’t noticed the barb.

"Marriage."

One word, that’s all I give him, and it’s enough.

His jaw tightens just barely before he turns toward the door, already moving like staying here another second might make him say something he can’t take back.

"I’ll look forward to our lunch next time, Bael."

He doesn’t look back when he says it, just keeps walking until the door closes behind him with a soft click that somehow sounds louder than it should.

Silence drops over the office.

It’s just us now, me standing beside Bael’s desk with my hand still on his shoulder because apparently I forgot it was there, and him sitting back in his chair looking up at me with an expression that makes my instincts scream at me to run.

The reality of what I just said hits me about three seconds too late.

Quality time.

As husbands.

The words play back in my head and get louder with each repetition, and I can feel my face heating up all over again because what was I thinking, why did I say it like that, I just...

I pull my hand back and take a step toward the couch.

Bael’s hand catches my waist before I make it two feet.

Firm and deliberate, his fingers curling against my side as he pulls me back toward him with enough certainty that my feet move before my brain catches up.

"Where are you going?"

His voice is low and amused, like this is the most entertaining thing that’s happened to him all week.

I try to step back again, pulling against his grip.

It tightens.

Then he pulls harder and I stumble slightly, my balance going sideways, and before I can correct it I’m being guided down onto his lap, his arm wrapping around my waist to hold me in place.

"Aren’t we sharing quality time?" he murmurs against my ear, his breath warm enough to make me shiver. "As husbands?"

My breath catches somewhere in my throat and refuses to come back out properly.

"No, I..."

His hand slides under my shirt before I can finish, palm warm against my stomach, fingers spreading across my ribs as they move higher until they settle over my chest.

"You said it yourself." He said. "You started it, Runze."

His thumb finds my nipple and circles it once, before pinching just hard enough to send a jolt straight through me that makes my teeth sink into my lower lip to trap the sound trying to escape.

"Ngh..."

He does it again, more slowly, like he’s cataloging exactly what makes me react and filing it away for later use.

My hand comes up without permission, gripping at his forearm, nails digging in slightly as I try to stay still and quiet and failing at both because he’s making it impossible.

His other hand mirrors the first and now both of them are moving, rubbing and pinching and sending heat through me in waves that keep building no matter how hard I try to control it.

A sound slips out, quiet and breathy and entirely too loud for how close Shen Rui’s desk is to this door.

Bael lets out a low hum, pleased, and shifts his hold on me, turning me so I’m facing him, straddling his lap with my knees pressing into the chair on both sides.

My hands grab his shoulders, fingers digging in, and when his mouth hits my neck, teeth scraping right under my ear, my head tips back on its own, letting him at more skin.

His hands move down my sides, over my hips, then to my ass, squeezing the cheeks before tugging at my pants’ waistband.

They drop right off, easy as hell.

Cool air hits my bare skin, and I feel the wetness already leaking from my hole, my body getting ready way too fast.

Bael picks up on it quick.

His fingers slide back there, checking me out, and the rough noise he makes against my neck says it all.

"This wet already?" he says, voice low and hungry.

I don’t say shit back.

Can’t, with his fingers pushing in... one thick one first, then another, opening me up slowly, like he’s dragging it out on purpose.

My arms go around his neck, face pressed to his shoulder to hide the moans trying to get out.

Shen Rui’s right outside the door, probably at his desk doing normal work things while I’m in here falling apart on his boss’s lap.

The thought should make me stop this, should make me push Bael away and fix my clothes and pretend this never happened.

It doesn’t.

Bael’s fingers pull out and I hear his belt, the metallic click and slide of his zipper, and when I glance down his cock is already out, hard and flushed and waiting.

He lifts me a bit, lines us up, and presses the head against my slick hole, sliding in slowly, one steady push until he’s all the way in, filling my ass completely.

I bite my lip hard, tasting blood to keep from yelling.

He holds still for a beat, letting me take his size. Then he starts moving, slow thrusts at first, controlled, hands on my hips pulling me down onto him each time.

Every slide hits deep, rubbing that spot inside that makes my eyes go fuzzy.

I try to stay quiet, biting back the sounds, but his cock pounding in and out makes it tough. The noises slip... soft grunts turning into louder gasps.

Bael’s grip gets tighter, speed picking up, slamming harder. His mouth covers mine, tongue shoving in to eat up my next moan.

I give in, kissing back messy and desperate.

Then he stands up, still buried in my ass, arms under my thighs holding me up like it’s nothing. Next thing, my back slams onto the desk, papers flying everywhere, some shit crashing down.

He keeps going, no pause, fucking me rough now, desk shaking with each hard thrust into my hole.

My hands grab the desk edge, holding on white-knuckled as he rails me, cock stretching and owning my ass completely.

Heat builds in my gut, winding up tight from the nonstop pounding until I can’t take it. I cum hard, ass clenching around his dick, body jerking as waves hit me.

He doesn’t quit, just fucks through it, making the high last longer until I’m shaking and too sensitive everywhere.

He changes the angle a touch, nailing that spot perfectly, and I blow again... stronger, vision going white, hole squeezing him like crazy while I leak more slick.

Bael loses it right after. His hips jerk wild, then he shoves deep one last time, groaning as he shoots his load inside me, hot cum filling my ass up.

We stay connected like that, both of us breathing too hard, my legs still wrapped around his waist and his hands still gripping my thighs, the weight of him pressing me into the desk.

I’m shaking, subtle tremors I can’t stop, aftershocks rolling through me even as I try to catch my breath.

Bael pulls back just enough to look at me and there’s something smug in his expression, something satisfied that makes me want to hit him except I don’t have the energy.

"Quality time," he murmurs.

I don’t have a response to that, can’t form words yet, so I just close my eyes and try to remember how breathing works.

Then the office phone rings.

Loud and insistent, right next to my head.

We both freeze.