Page 31 of Discretion at Its Finest

“Liar.”

My body betrayed me. I didn’t mean to arch back, my legs already parting for him. It just… happened. Almost like instinct or memory. My head leaning back against him despite me wanting to keep it straight.

He found the crook of my neck, breathing me in.

Then his hand slid higher, slower now, his movements measured and confident. Hunting for what he already knew he’d find. And when he reached it, when he felt that humiliating, shameful wet heat between my thighs, he stilled long enough for me to burn hotter for him.

I gripped the counter harder.

A low, cruel chuckle ghosted over my neck. “You’re soaked for me already, Vieve?” he whispered, exposing the swollen heat between my thighs before I felt his fingers pressing in, stretching me open like he had every right.

The words seared down my spine, and I hated…fucking hatedhow right they felt.

I bit down on my lip, desperate not to make a sound, but a gasp slipped out. It was broken, breathless and… pathetic. But his pace didn’t falter, his precision merciless.

I buckled against the counter, my balance faltering as he filled me up. “You know you can’t pretend with me.”

My nails dug into the countertop, searching for something to hold onto. The marble was cold, steady, but it wasn’t enough, not against the pace of his fingers sliding deeper, curling until my breath broke into pieces.

“Reid…” My whisper was barely a sound, trembling with everything I didn’t want him to hear.

He didn’t answer. Each slick thrust of his fingers echoed in the silence, obscene and wet, louder than my own breath. I tried to twist away, but he pressed me tighter to the counter, forcing me to hear every humiliating note of how my body welcomed him.

“Listen to yourself,” he whispered, lips grazing my ear. “Do you hear it? That’s not his. That’s mine.”

Shame burned hot down my spine. My body clenched around him like it knew the truth I wouldn’t admit aloud. Tears slipped out before I could stop them. “Please…” My voice cracked, pathetic.

“Please what?” he whispered against my skin, fingers driving deeper, curling slower, drawing out more obscene noises that made my face red.

“You can’t even close your legs,” he murmured, watching me fold. “Pathetic. Hungry for me, even now.”

Another sob clawed through my throat as another slick, humiliating squelch filled the air. I clamped my hand over my mouth, but he caught my wrist, dragging it down until the cry escaped, full, unmasked.

“No hiding.” His tone was lethal in its patience, his fingers never faltering, working me harder until I thought I’d break apart. “Not from me. Never from me.”

A raw and desperate cry broke free. My forehead dropped against the cold marble, the tears smearing across it as my hips betrayed me, rocking, searching for more even as my words failed, lifting into his hand as a deep chuckle surfaced from his throat.

“There it is… fuck, look at that.”

“Reid—” I tried again, broken, but it came out as a sob instead of a protest. My body wasn’t mine anymore; it was his. Myhips moved against his hand, betraying me with every shameless grind, every desperate push for more.

His palm pressed down on my hip, forcing me wider, until I felt exposed in a way I couldn’t hide from. “That’s it,” he breathed, embarrassment flooding me as he watched. “Open wider. Just like that.”

I couldn’t hold it any longer. My body broke open around his hand, convulsing, clenching, my legs nearly giving out as I came hard, humiliatingly loud, soaking his hand with proof I couldn’t deny.

I collapsed against the counter, chest heaving, tears mixing with sweat as his hand slipped out of me. But he didn’t let me hide just yet.

Instead of letting me go, he caught my waist, his firm unyielding grip pushing me higher onto the counter like I weighed nothing. Cold stone pressed against my skin as he turned me onto my back, spreading me out beneath him.

His dark eyes locked on mine, his gaze all-consuming and obsessive… I couldn’t look away even if I wanted to. The weight of that stare pinned me harder than his hands on my hips.

His jaw was tight, chest rising in measured control, but his hands betrayed him. Parting my legs, holding me open, claiming the view like it was already his.

My breath faltered as he leaned lower, closer, until the heat of his mouth ghosted over me.

The first stroke of his tongue was slow. My back arched hard, a gasp breaking loose, but he didn’t stop: he dragged it deeper, firmer, holding me there with his stare while his mouth devoured me.

I couldn’t escape it. The pull of his gaze was as relentless as the pace of his tongue, steady and brutal, pushing me higher and higher until my body shattered, convulsing against his mouth.