"We shouldn't"

She walked into the room with his coffee in hand. The minute he noticed her, the gleam in his eyes fired up.
 
‘Come here.’
 
That was all he said. That was all it needed. Though the greys are already showing, he still emanated power and strength. And no one could refuse him. Certainly, not her.
 
She placed the cup on his table and went round it to him. She stopped in front of him, just for a moment, as their eyes held each other’s for a minute that seemed like eternity. Then she slid onto his lap, and at once, his arms banded around her tightly, and his hands began its intimate roaming.
 
She gave a little groan. “Tan Sri, we shouldn’t.” If it was even possible, she trembled in his arms.
 
He ignored her. He nuzzled her neck and breathed in her unique scent. One hand crept up to the buttons of her blouse. Again she tried another protest.
 
“Tan Sri… we shouldn’t. Puan Sri…”
 
He growled. “There is no ‘Tan Sri’, no ‘Puan Sri’. Just you and me.” He captured her lips and silenced her.
 
When they surfaced for air, he cradled her and she laid her cheek on his suited chest, pleased with the thundering heartbeat. He turned his chair, and they watched the sun touch the tips of the skyscrapers surrounding them.
 
She gave a contented sigh. “After all these years, you still get turned on by that little routine. One day the staff will realise how sick you are.”
 
Above her head, he grinned and she felt it. “Don’t complain. That little routine got you me.”

 “Pervert. You are still a sick man.”