Chapter Eleven

Lost in the depths of each other's eyes, Ethan and Clara forgot about the world beyond their office sanctuary. Their lips met in a tender, exploratory kiss, soft and sweet, yet packed with a depth of longing that belied its gentle nature.

As the kiss deepened, Ethan's hands roamed freely over Clara's curves, mapping every inch of her body with reverence and hunger. His palms grazed the swell of her breasts, tracing the contours of her waist, before slipping lower to caress the supple flesh of her thighs.

Clara's breath hitched as Ethan's fingers danced along the hem of her skirt, the fabric whispering against her skin. With a subtle push, he eased the garment upward, exposing the lace of her panties. His touch turned bold, teasing the sensitive bud at the apex of her thighs.

Clara's hips bucked involuntarily, seeking more of Ethan's tantalizing touch. Her head fell back, exposing the column of her throat as she surrendered to the waves of pleasure washing over her.

Just as Ethan's fingers were poised to slip beneath the damp fabric of her underwear, a sharp rap at the door shattered the intimate moment. Startled, they sprang apart, hearts racing in unison.

"Secretary Eva ," Ethan muttered, glancing at his watch in dismay. "Twenty minutes late already. Shit."

Clara's face flushed crimson as she hastily adjusted her skirt, trying to regain some semblance of composure. "Maybe I should answer it," she suggested, rising to her feet.

Ethan shook his head, grabbing his tie with a grimace. "No, let's keep this... incident between us for now.