Page 106 of Discretion at Its Finest

“Reid—Reid, I have to cum again,” she whimpered, the sound so small, so helpless, it made me groan, my cock twitching inside her.

“You’re gonna squeeze the cum out of me, aren’t you?” I murmured against her ear, my voice breaking into a snarl. “Gonna soak my cock again like you were made for it.”

Her mouth opened, but only a small, broken sound escaped as her thighs clamped around me, her cunt strangling my cock as I filled her to the brim.

“That’s it,” I groaned, burying myself deep, holding her there, letting her convulse around me. “Milk my cock, baby. Come on.”

I slammed her down on my cock again one final time, a deep, punishing thrust that buried me so far inside her. My release tore through me in a violent, shaking rush. Hot, heavy pulses spilled into her, filling her, spilling deeper with each involuntary grind of my hips, the tip of my cock kissing her cervix as she trembled.

My forehead fell to her shoulder as another thick pulse emptied into her, her cunt clenching around me like she was begging for more. Her little body took my cum so well, I’d praise her for that if I wasn’t on the verge of falling to my knees.

For a moment neither of us moved, her body still trembling faintly in my arms. I held her there, my hand moving slowly up her spine without thinking.

God, I want to be like this forever. Be with her forever. But forever didn’t exist for us, didn’t live in our world, wasn’t feasible with where I was going.

And I needed her to know that.

We lay on the cot for another half hour, the time constraint from the guard long forgotten as my little Vieve cuddled up beside me, head on my chest as she trailed her hand up and down my stomach.

She was shaking. That wasn’t pleasure anymore but effects of the aftershocks of everything I’d taken from her, everything her little body had absorbed for me.

She tried to steady herself, my poor girl. But her little cunt was too wrecked, her thighs too weak to even stand.

“Reid…?” she whispered into the void as my hands caressed the delicate curve of her hips.

“Mmm,” I muttered against her skin.

“I was thinking about what you said,” she murmured, “about… us.”

A muscle in my jaw pulled tight. “Don’t,” I muttered.

Her fingers traced the stitching on my shirt, slow, thoughtful. And despite my warning, she spoke anyway. “Do you still think about what we could’ve had?” she whispered. “If we didn’t lose those years?”

I closed my eyes, leaning my head back against the pillow. She sat up gently, body still leaning on my chest as her head propped up, waiting. My hands tightened on her waist. “What do you think I do all day in these four walls?” I muttered, annoyance in my tone. “All I do is think about you.” Her fingers continued tracing my chest. “I don’t think about the companies, being trapped in here… none of it. I just think of you. I think of Eugene on your hip. The baby you’re carrying… that’s all that’s on my mind nonstop.”

I had tried to convince myself coming back to burn everything down was strategy, going after her was obsession. Anything to make me feel like the reason I came back for her in the first place wasn’t because of love. But here she was. In my arms, lying beside me in a prison cell.

She’d told me she loved me. That was the first time I’d heard her say it in years. But I couldn’t say it back. We couldn’t have that between us despite my love for her never stopping.

Her hands cupping my face, her lips touching mine in the softest, aching little kiss as I pressed her to me. If it was up to me, I’d have her. Again and again into the night. Smother her with my presence and never let her go… But finally the guard knocked.

“Wrap it up,” he barked.

And our time was up.

Chapter forty-two

Gregory

The whiskey didn’t burn enough.

I tipped the glass again, letting the heat slide down my throat, hoping it would help relieve some of the stress weighing me down. It didn’t. Instead, it only made my eyes zero in on every failure on my desk. The lawsuits, class-action threats, liquidation notices, federal seizure letters.

Every sheet of paper was another reminder that Newman Trust was dead.

And if Newman Trust was dead, then I might as well be, too. It was all I had left. The legacy I was going to uphold, the name I was supposed to revive. All of it gone… because of me.

A soft coo broke into the silence.