Page 49 of Discretion at Its Finest

I held eye contact as his hand slid down my side, fingers hooking the slit of my gown, pulling it higher… and higher along my thigh. My body shuddered. The cold night air hit my skin, but his palm followed immediately after, dragging up my leg. His hand found the flimsy material of my lace before he pulled it down agonizingly slowly.

“Someone could walk out,” I whispered again, weaker this time.

He quirked an eyebrow, eyes dark and blown wide with hunger as they lowered to his hand.

“And?”

“And—” I tried, even as my hips rolled into him without permission, my fingers twisted into his jacket, trying to anchor myself. “We can’t…” I whispered.

Another useless, broken lie. Because I didn’t stop him when he dragged the lace down my thighs, slow enough to make me feel every inch of air against my skin.

Or when he lifted the flimsy scrap of fabric to his nose, inhaled like it was a drug, then tucked it into his back pocket to keep.

And I definitely didn’t stop him when he squeezed my jaw. Hard, firm fingers digging into my cheeks, peeling my mouth open for him, before he crushed his mouth to mine again.

His tongue shoved deep past my lips, his taste consuming and invasive. A muffled moan tore straight from my throat, my knees almost giving out.

His hand slid down, hooking under my thigh, dragging my leg around his waist as he pinned me harder to the stone. My dress rode up with the movement, pooling around my hips, leaving me exposed to the night and to him.

Then I felt him, thick and hard. His cock pressed right against my stomach, pulsing with every breath he took. My fingers clawed at him for purchase, sliding up the broad plane of his chest, digging into his shoulders, desperate for anywhere to hold on.

My arms wrapped around his neck instantly when his hand left my face and slipped between us, his fingers teasing along my clit before he pushed deeper into my core, curling just right. My mouth fell open on a gasp, my fingernails digging into his neck as his fingers thrusted again, the heat of him grinding against my stomach like he was seconds away from losing control.

I was close, so close, my walls clenching around his fingers, my breath coming in short gasps as the pressure built—and then his hand stilled before his fingers pulled out. I whimpered at the loss, my body screaming for release.

He ignored my protests, grabbing my thigh, hiking it higher around his waist, and with his other hand, he freed himself, the hot, heavy length of him springing free, throbbing and needy.

Then he pushed in.

Slow at first, the thick stretch making my nails drag down his back. My head hit the stone. My vision went white at the edges.

“God, Reid—”

“I know,” he breathed, biting my shoulder to keep himself from losing control. “Fuck, I know.” When he bottomed out, his body froze against mine, chest shaking with restraint. “You’re still so…” He swallowed hard, jaw clenched. “…tight for me.”

His hands held me steady as he moved again, and I clutched him tighter. We stayed that way for a second before his restraint shattered, his hips pulling back before he slammed into me.

My cry echoed into the night air. He swallowed it with his mouth, his thrusts deepening, rhythm shifting into something brutal. Every stroke hit the spot that made my leg spasm around him. And when it slipped, he caught it with an almost feral growl before he grabbed me tighter, pinning me harder against the wall.

“Reid—” It was barely a whisper, barely my own voice.

He shuddered, breath hot against my cheek, lips brushing mine as he fucked me deeper.

“You feel that?” he rasped. “How badly I need you?”

Before I could nod, before I could even breathe, my orgasm hit, violent and blinding.

My eyes rolled back, my body seizing around him as pleasure tore through me in one unbearable wave. I collapsed forward, falling against his shoulder, my nails desperately clawing down his back, clinging to him.

His grip only tightened, his hips kept driving into me. His hand slid between us, fingers finding my clit with ruthless precision.

“Soak my cock, Vieve… just like that,” he whispered, his mouth brushing against my ear as my legs shook.

Then, his rhythm faltered just for a second before he slammed into me one last time. A brutal, deep, cervix-punching thrust that tore a cry straight out of my throat.

His voice broke, raw, gutted, as he spilled into me in hard, involuntary jerks that pinned me to the wall. His grip bruised my hip, his forehead dropping against my shoulder as both of us shook, breathless and undone. The world was a blur as our bodies stayed connected, our labored breaths and heartbeats in sync.

His breath was still uneven against my skin, cooling in the silence between us.