Page 74 of Discretion at Its Finest

I hated him, but I hated the way my body betrayed me more.

I knew I should’ve walked straight out the door and away from him… but on my own free will, as if gravity itself had forced me down, I sank to my knees in front of his desk.

A low, satisfied exhale escaped him, as he took a step toward me. He stood over me, sleeves rolled, chest broad, his shadowcutting into mine. His hand slid beneath my chin, forcing my gaze up.

“You begged me to forgive you. Now show me you meant it.”

My lips parted in a trembling breath as he unfastened his belt, the leather falling to the floor as his eyes ran over me.

His hand caressed the side of my face and I leaned into his touch subconsciously as it slowly made its way into my hair. I let out an involuntary moan as I felt his grip tighten into a fist against my scalp, the feeling making my lower abdomen flutter in anticipation.

Shame licked hot across my skin. My lips parted, a protest on the edge of forming, but no sound came. My body betrayed me, leaning into the heat of his palm, into the hold I swore I didn’t want.

I watched silently as he freed himself. “Open,” he commanded, and I did, without thinking, or hesitating, my eyes locked on his. And when I felt him against my tongue, hot and warm, I reveled in the sight of his head falling back in pleasure.

“That’s it,” he whispered, his tone quiet command as he lowered his head back down. His hand tightened in my hair, a subtle pull that sent a tremor racing down my spine. “Show me,” he whispered, dark eyes pinning me. “Show me you meant every word.”

My throat worked, anger and anticipation twisting in me until they were indistinguishable. His hold in my hair was unrelenting but careful, a leash disguised as tenderness, control disguised as touch.

And as my lips closed tighter around him, another groan escaped him, a sound of possession more than pleasure. His hand steadied me, directing my pace, every small motion a reminder that I wasn’t leading this.

Heat seared through me, humiliation and arousal in equal measure, until I couldn’t tell the difference anymore. My bodygave what my pride couldn’t. My hands clutched at his thighs, my gaze flicking up once, only to find his already on me… dark, consuming, merciless. Then his hand pulled my head back abruptly, ripping his cock from my mouth as a trail of saliva followed.

He pulled me up by my hair, his strong hands gripping my waist, lifting me with ease until I was perched on the edge of his desk. My knees wavered, instinct to clamp shut, but his palms slid down the inside of my thighs, forcing them apart. I let out a gasp as he tore my panties to shreds, pushing up my dress until my lower half was bare to him.

The wood was cold beneath me, but his body filled the space between, all heat and warmth, chest pressing to mine until I could feel every measured breath.

“Better,” he murmured, his mouth grazing the edge of my jaw as he held me wide open. “Now I can see you.”

I tried to turn my head, but his fingers caught my chin, forcing me to meet his eyes. The dark steadiness there stripped every excuse and lie, leaving me raw.

My hips tilted, seeking friction I swore I didn’t want. His mouth curved against mine in something darker than a smile. And then his cock pushed into me. Stretching, filling me as he held me open. My arms wrapped around his neck, clinging as he held me open for him, his lips placing soft tender kisses on my forehead that were too gentle for what he was doing to me.

When he was settled deep inside me, I felt my body flutter around him, my eyes rolling back as he pulled out and pushed in again.

Each thrust drove deeper, stretching me until my breath broke into small, helpless sounds against his shoulder. His hands never left my thighs, palms firm on the inside, keeping me open, exactly where he wanted me.

A sob clawed its way up my throat, but the sound that escaped was a moan. His smirk brushed against my skin as he kissed the corner of my mouth, slow and taunting, even as his thrusts began to build.

His breath was still ragged when he hooked his arms beneath me, lifting me off the desk as if I weighed nothing. My legs wrapped around his waist instinctively.

“Reid…” I whispered, his grip bruising at my thighs as he thrust up into me. He pinned me to the wall, my back slamming against the cold surface, his weight crushing me down as his hips drove up. My legs shook around his waist, spread wide, helpless against the brute strength of him.

Each thrust was devastating, forcing me to take him to the hilt, deeper than I thought I could stretch. The shock of it tore cries from my throat, and his teeth caught my jaw, biting down until I sobbed.

But yet I still clung to him, the tears feeling more like tears of relief than of shame or anger. My body gradually wanted him more and more, my heart much the same despite my constant battle with it.

“You missed me,” he whispered, hot against my skin, and I shook my head.

It was another lie and we both knew it. My fists were still in his shirt, knuckles white as it was clear that my body did more than just miss him.

“Say it,” he growled like he needed to hear it.

He pulled back just enough to look at me, before he slammed into me again. The force of it knocked the breath from my lungs, a gasp tearing from my throat.

“Say it before I lose my fucking mind, Vieve.”

“I hate you,” I whispered instead, the words tearing from my throat.