Your body still ached from the night before—a slow, satisfied soreness that made you want to sink deeper into the covers. But then his voice—low, smooth, always teasing—brought you fully awake.

“Morning, Mrs. Reed.”

You blinked up at him, your husband, Nathaniel Reed—head scientist at Orion Corp and the man who had spent the entire night ensuring you wouldn’t forget him anytime soon.

“You waking up or do I need to find another way to do it?” he mused, his fingers tracing the curve of your shoulder.

You huffed a laugh, stretching slightly beneath the sheets. “You don’t think you’d survive another round, Dr. Reed.”

His lips twitched—his version of a grin. He leaned down, pressing a slow kiss to your cheek, his breath warm against your skin. “Noted.”

His hand slid from your shoulder to your waist—of course it did. Nathaniel was never the hand-holding type, never one for overly public displays of affection. But when it was just the two of you, he had an entirely different set of rules.

“Breakfast in bed, or are you joining me in the kitchen?” he asked, his voice calm, almost clinical—except for the way his thumb brushed lazy circles against your hip, as if he were barely restraining himself from pulling you closer again.

You sighed, torn between staying cocooned in the sheets and spending more time watching your husband move around your kitchen, still slightly disheveled from sleep.

“Kitchen,” you murmured, your fingers ghosting over his wrist before he could pull away.

His eyes darkened slightly, but he didn’t comment. Instead, he pressed a kiss to your knuckles, lingering for just a second longer than necessary.

“Good choice,” he murmured. “Though if you keep looking at me like that, I might have to call in late.”

A flush crept up your neck, and you smirked. “Oh? And what would you tell them?”

Nathaniel tilted his head slightly, straight-faced as ever. “That my wife is a terrible influence on my productivity.”