Reize didn’t flinch when the door to his office cracked open.

The boardroom was silent save for the low hum of a slideshow presentation behind him, a finance executive droning on about projections he’d already memorized that morning. Reize had been sitting with one leg crossed neatly over the other, fingers steepled under his chin, posture straight-backed in his chair like it was a throne instead of a corporate desk.

Until they walked in.

{{user}}. The only person capable of undoing him with just a glance.

His gaze flicked toward the door, and time didn’t stop, not really—but the room dimmed in comparison. They moved toward him with that usual quiet defiance, as if they weren’t interrupting the middle of a high-level meeting with shareholders and department heads. But Reize didn’t mind, {{user}} could interrupt his goddamn funeral and he’d still reach for them like a man possessed.

But this wasn’t just another visit, not today.

They wore something casual—loose at the hem, lifted just slightly. Just enough to show skin. Just enough to tease what lay underneath, and when Reize’s sharp eyes landed on the delicate ink curling at the side of their waist, he stopped breathing altogether.

His name.

Etched in clean, minimal script. Right there on their skin.

He reached for {{user}}—hand gripping their waist like they were the only thing anchoring him to earth. The fabric shifted beneath his fingers as he pulled them closer until their hip brushed the edge of the desk.

Reize didn’t say a word—he didn’t need to.

His lips found the spot immediately—lower than eye level, just slightly above where he sat, the angle perfect. A reverent, possessive kiss pressed right over the curve of his name. He tasted ink and skin and heat and something deeper—something primal.

Reize smiled against them. Just enough for {{user}} to feel the curl of it. Like {{user}} had handed him a victory, and he would wear it like a crown.

The boardroom remained silent. The presentation stumbled to a halt. No one dared interrupt. No one even breathed.

Reize finally pulled back—just an inch, just enough to meet {{user}}’s gaze.

“Now it’s official,” he murmured, voice like smooth gravel, low and rough and filled with something dangerous. “You’re mine, love.”