Page 32 of Discretion at Its Finest

But he didn’t stop.

His grip on my thighs stayed firm, forcing me open wider as he kept going, drinking me in like my orgasm hadn’t been enough. Like nothing would ever be enough. Tears blurred my vision as another wave hit harder, ripping through me so violently I almost screamed.

Still his mouth moved, his eyes pinning mine to his. Every cry and tremor, every broken plea fell useless between us as he swallowed me whole, dragging me through orgasm after orgasm until my body was limp, trembling and ruined against the marble.

When he finally lifted his head, his lips were slick, his breath ragged, but his gaze was terrifyingly steady. He didn’t look at me like a man satisfied. The look instead resembled an animal staking his claim.

“I meant what I said, Vieve.” His hand pressed firm on my trembling stomach, pinning me in place as if to remind me I wasn’t done, not by a long shot.

“This,” he murmured, voice rough but controlled, “is just the start.”

My chest rose and fell, the hairs on my neck rising as his gaze stayed detached. There was no urgency, no tenderness—just pure, sheer, dark determination.

“This isn’t about me wanting you. This isn’t about love. I’m going to break you, Vieve. I’m going to take every last thing you love, every last thing you’ve pretended to love…” His thumb dragged over my trembling stomach, slow, possessive. His eyes held mine, unblinking, watching as I trembled for him.

“Until there’s nothing left but me.”

Chapter fourteen

Reid

The second I had her against the counter, her body soaked for me, fucking clinging to me, begging me, I should have walked away. Made her sit in a puddle of shame, to see how much power I truly had over her.

But I didn’t. And now, sitting in my office, all I could think of was her. My tongue roamed my mouth, searching for her taste, trying to chase its last remnants like a fucking addict.

I shouldn’t have given in. The burning touch of her body was still on my hands, still fucking under my skin. She was a drug I hadn’t touched in years and now suddenly it felt like I couldn’t live without it.

Her slick heat between her thighs was burned into my mind. My cock ached to be buried inside of it. I wanted more of those sounds, more of those helpless little moans that told me she was unraveling in the way I wanted, the way I fucking needed.

She thought she was strong enough to push me away… but the second I touched her she was already dripping, ready for me.

I was supposed to break her. Remind her who she left. But the second I tasted her again, all I wanted was more. More of herbreath hitching when I pinned her down, her voice cracking on my name. More of that trembling, soaked mess she turned into when I touched her like no one else ever could.

And fuck.

She was still lying, pretending like it meant nothing. Sleeping next to the man who couldn’t ever give her a fraction of what I always gave. I let her walk away. But she and I both knew this was far from over.

An addict getting his drug after years away doesn’t quit cold turkey… He isn’t cured… he’s hungry for the next fix. And I was fucking starving.

The next time I had her under me?

There wouldn’t be any holding back or mercy. She would beg for me to stop, for more, foreverything.

A knock on the door broke through my thoughts. I didn’t answer. Still, the door opened anyway. Alexander stepped in, planner in hand, tie slightly askew most likely from tugging at it all morning.

“You’re booked through next Friday,” he began, voice clipped. “We’ve got the preparation for the West Coast investor meeting, accounting revisions, and the press draft for the Newman restructuring launch.”

He paused, waiting for me to acknowledge him. When I didn’t he let out a sigh. “Also, your flight dates to California are confirmed. Four nights should be enough. The Stanford team locked in their time with you the morning after you land. You’ll want the PR campaign reviewed before we touch ground.”

I nodded slowly. “Genevieve will be accompanying us. See to it the adjustments are made to accommodate her and her son.”

Alexander blinked, the ease of the words coming out the way they did startling him just as much as they did me. “Does this have anything to do with the blood sample you requested a few days ago?”

My jaw clenched in irritation as my mind immediately went to those moments in the clinic—Eugene curled against me, grabbing my hand without hesitation, staying by my side like he fucking belonged there—to the moments in the morning I’d began to spend with him more frequently without his mother hovering. The way the nurse had mistaken me for his father. The way I paid closer attention to his features that he shared with me. Sure, one could argue that he had Gregory’s as well… but his little eyebrows of concentration, his eyes, his laugh, his blood type…all of it was mine.

I signed the form like it was nothing… but it was everything she kept from me.

Alexander never pried about my personal life. Not when his work was much more important. But the way he asked the question, I could already tell he knew the answer.