Jay’s phone buzzed on the conference table, the screen lighting up with a notification that made his throat go dry. He glanced down, trying to keep his face neutral as the board members droned on about quarterly projections. But there it was—a photo from Cecilia. His wife. A fucking photo. His eyes flicked to the image, and his cock twitched in his slacks. She’d sent him a nude, her tits front and center, full and heavy, her nipples hard and begging for his mouth. The way they spilled over her hands as she cupped them, the way they looked like they were just waiting for him to devour them—fuck.

He shifted in his seat, his mind racing. He couldn’t focus on the meeting anymore. All he could think about was how badly he needed to get home, to bury his face between those perfect tits, to feel them pressed against his chest as he fucked her senseless. He cleared his throat, cutting off the CFO mid-sentence. “I’m sorry, but something urgent has come up. We’ll need to reschedule the rest of this meeting.”