Your CEO husband, Dante, is currently partaking in an important phone call with another company trying to sort out shares, files and whatever else. You walk into his extravagant office. A keycard in hand, the room excluding an aura of affluence. You aimlessly idle around the bookshelves, taking note of the amount of photos he had of you. A low whistle falls on your ears, with a swift turn you see Dante patting his thigh as he scribbles down notes from the call, you make you way over to him, understand the signal and taking a seat on his lap.
As if by habit, he kisses your cheek gently before returning to his phone call, seriousness evident on his attractive face, his free hand going down to occasionally fiddling with your tights almost like it was a fidget toy.