28. Genevieve
Chapter twenty-eight
Genevieve
“Kneel.”
The command hung in the air between us as the room fell silent. My breath hitched. “What?” I whispered, and his expression didn’t shift. He was serious?
“Actions speak louder than words,” he said. “Your lies aren’t enough this time. I need you to prove it.”
I shook my head, my heart racing but my legs feeling weak, betraying what ever willpower I had left. “This isn’t forgiveness.”
“No,” he agreed, his voice dropping lower. “But it’s as close as you’ll get to it with what you hid from me.”
The seconds dragged heavy between us. My legs wavered, shame and fury burning through me, and still he didn’t bat an eyelash—he just waited for me.
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 shadow cutting 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 body gave 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.
His hips snapped harder, my eyes rolling to the back of my head as he groaned against my skin.
“Liar,” he whispered, his mouth hovering over mine, taunting me in a way that was more forgiving than the delicious brutal assault wreaking havoc and pleasure on my body.
My eyes found his as the pleasure consumed me, his thrusts slowing as I caressed his face.
“…I missed you, Reid…” I whispered.
After a few moments his lips came down onto mine in a gentle claim.
“If only you knew,” he husked, pulling away from my lips only slightly, “how much I missed you, mon amour.”
“…I hate,” I moaned, and he quirked an eyebrow as another guttural moan left me, “how much I still love you.”
Something dark tore through his expression at my words.
His grip on my thighs tightened painfully as he slammed into me harder. “Say it again,” he growled, voice shredded. “Say it.”
“I—” His hand flew up, gripping my jaw so tightly my words dissolved into a gasp.
“Say it, Vieve.”
Another thrust ripped straight through me, cruel and perfect as my orgasm peaked, driving me over the edge. “I hate how much I still love you.”
A deep sound of contentment hummed through him before his mouth crashed to mine as he pinned me harder against the wall. The room tilted. My legs shook. My mind blanked as my second orgasm in only a span of seconds approached.
His hips pounded into mine again, brutal and unrelenting. “You should hate me.” Thrust. “You should love me.” Thrust. “You should break for me the way I broke for you.”
My nails clawed at his back, desperation blurring with devastation until I didn’t know what I was feeling anymore… only that it was too much, too deep, too consuming. My legs shook as he smiled against my skin. “And I’m going to fucking make you.”
His legs moved as my head spun before my back hit the sofa, his hands ripping off his shirt before he pulled off my dress in one motion. Another moan tore from me. “Reid.” My body clenched around him violently. “I’m sorry—”
He slammed into me so hard the apology shattered. “Sorry isn’t enough, baby.”
He kissed away my tears. His other hand slid between us, pressing hard against my stomach, forcing my body still with each thrust.
His kisses were soft, but my orgasms were shattering. There was no rhythm. No sweetness. Just fury. Just him, dragging it out of me. Making me feel every second of the choice I made. Every consequence. Every lie.
His hand wrapped around my throat enough to make my heart stutter. “You don’t get to leave me again.”
His words sent warmth through my body, and in that moment I didn’t fight him as my legs went limp beneath him, broken open. My thighs were numb, my lips parted, but no sound came out.
He was still inside me. Still trying to make me feel it… feel him.
And in that moment I decided to just… let go. My body folded beneath him, slack and open. A rag doll. A sinner. A woman stripped of her false armor and soiled dignity.
And I took everything he gave me.
Because deep down, a sick part of me believed this was justice. That him tearing me apart with nothing but his hands, his mouth, his cock was the punishment I’d been avoiding.
I deserved this.
I was the one who left… I let them bury him. I chose safety over truth. I still wanted him… more than I should.
His hips snapped into mine again, and I barely reacted. The sound escaping me wasn’t a gasp, wasn’t even a moan: it was a breath, a release of everything I’d been holding.
I stared up at him, eyes unfocused, the world blurring behind tears I didn’t bother hiding anymore. My mind drifted far away from the pain, the pleasure, the past, the present and just let me feel the punishment I deserved from the man I loved.
And then something in him changed.
His thrusts faltered for a moment, and immediately I felt his hand cradle the side of my face, wiping away the fallen tears.
“Look at me, Vieve.” His voice was low, steady, but trembling at the edges. “I’m right here, baby.”
Something inside me shattered. “I’m sorry, Reid,” I whispered, the confession breaking out of me like a sob.
Another tremor ran through me as he slowed his thrusts. “I know, baby…” he muttered before his lips devoured mine as my body tightened around him.
He leaned in, lips brushing my temple, my cheek, the corner of my mouth, as he thrust deeper, slower, pulling sound out of me again. My fingers curled into his hair, my body shuddering back into itself.
And somewhere between his lips on my temple and his hands pulling me closer, the shame dissolved. In that moment, there was no past, no punishment or lies that followed me across the country. It was just him and me.
My cry hit the air, my entire body spasming around him as pleasure tore through me violently one final time.
“Good girl…” he whispered, voice breaking. “Jesus… fuck, you’re such a good girl—”
He followed moments later. With a guttural sound ripped straight from his chest, his forehead against mine, his hips driving tight, deep, losing every shred of restraint.
I didn’t know if this was forgiveness or just the closest we’d ever get to it, but in his arms… in this moment? I didn’t care anymore.