Page 29 of His to Command

The sunset paints her skin golden, her hair a dark flame against the white roses I've surrounded her with. Beautiful. Perfect. Mine. The words pulse with my heartbeat as I drive us both toward completion.

"The ring stays on," I tell her, voice rough with approaching climax. "Always. So everyone knows."

"Yes," she agrees, fingers digging into my shoulders. "Yes, Hudson, please?—"

I reach between us, finding her clit, circling in time with my thrusts. "Come for me," I command. "Come for your fiancé."

The words trigger her release—her body arching, inner muscles clamping around me in rhythmic pulses that drag me over the edge with her. I empty myself inside her with a guttural sound that might be her name, might be a prayer, might be both.

For long moments, we remain joined, breathing hard, foreheads pressed together. The diamonds on her finger catch the last rays of sunset, sending rainbows dancing across my face. A sign. A promise. A future.

"Was that a yes?" she asks finally, humor dancing in her voice.

I laugh—a sound so rare before her that it used to startle my employees. Now it comes easily, naturally, in her presence. "That was a hell yes."

She smiles, that sweet, genuine smile that first caught my attention across a conference table. "Good. Because I'm not giving this ring back." She wiggles her fingers, making the diamond flash. "It matches my eyes."

"That's why I chose it." I help her down from the table, keeping her pressed against me. "Everything I give you will be perfect. Worthy of you."

She reaches up, traces the line of my jaw with gentle fingertips. "I don't need perfect, Hudson. I just need you."

The simple declaration hits me with unexpected force. For all my wealth, all my power, no one has ever wanted just me before. The man beneath the empire. The heart beneath the ruthless exterior.

"You have me," I promise, covering her hand with mine, feeling the hard press of the ring between our palms. "All of me. Forever."

She rises on tiptoes, presses a kiss to the corner of my mouth. "So what's next, Mr. Roth?"

"Everything," I tell her, meaning it completely. "Everything with you, Mrs. Roth."

Her breath catches at the name—my name, soon to be hers. "I like the sound of that."

"So do I." I lead her toward the champagne, finally ready for celebration. "It's how I'll introduce you at the board meeting tomorrow. Robin Roth, my fiancée and Chief Strategy Officer."

She laughs, a sound I'll never tire of. "The board will have collective heart failure."

"Let them," I dismiss, pouring golden liquid into crystal flutes. "They work for us now."

Us. The word feels right. Necessary. Like the final piece of a puzzle sliding into place.

I hand her a glass, raise my own. "To us," I propose. "To forever."

"To us," she echoes, eyes shining with emotion as our glasses clink together. "To forever."

As the last light fades from the sky, painting Manhattan in shadow and electric brilliance, I look at the woman before me—the woman wearing my ring, soon to bear my name, already carrying my heart.

She's not just my assistant. Not just my lover. She's the center of my world. The one person who's ever truly seen me. And now, finally, officially, irrevocably mine.

I've never believed in fate before Robin. Never believed in anything I couldn't control, couldn't acquire through determination and strategic planning. But this—this connection that sparked the moment our eyes met—feels like something beyond my making. Something inevitable. Cosmic.

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