Page 159 of The Liar's Reckoning

“Mmm….fuuuccckkk…” he groans, like he felt them, too.

The barest glimpse of his pleasure has me coming immediately undone. A strong contraction cramps low in my belly where it feels like Silas’s cock is about to punch through, but it’s also where I feel my release build.

“Oh God, oh God…” I might throw up. Wouldn’t that be perfect?

My cock jerks weakly in its cage and releases a warm trickle of cum, but as the orgasm ratchets to its peak, it backs up inside me, releasing deep in my core and leaving me choked and gasping. I fight the gag that wants to come with the gut punched feeling.

Silas pulls out, and his own breathing picks up as he finishes himself, spilling onto my right ass cheek and glaring straight into the camera with his eyes hooded and lashes fluttering at the moment of his release. As soon as the last drop is out, he grabs his phone and staggers back, hitting the wall opposite the mirror. His chest is heaving.

I reach for a hand towel and push myself up straighter. After running the water a moment to get it damp, I wipe my face, then my ass cheek, then dab at my caged dick. By the time I’m done, he’s tucked in, buttoned and zipped, pushing his hand back through his hair, which rebounds in perfect waves to frame his forehead.

Still perfect. Still as beautiful and intimidating as the day we met. Still the unmatched love of my life, who I betrayed in a way he says is unforgivable.

He holds up the phone and says in a voice that’s tellingly breathless, “If I send this to your dad, will I get as much as Avery did?”

I turn to face him, my own gaze wary, not sure I did the right thing letting him film that. The man I used to know, I trusted with my life. But that was before I did exactly what he accused me of—chose my job over him—the same way his ex did.

I deserve every ounce of his dripping hatred. I deserve whatever he wants to do with that video.

“Get out,” he says, when I don’t answer.

I’m a mess. “Can I have a second?”

“No.”

I swallow, unable to meet his eyes. “How long will you be?—”

“Get. Out.”

With one last look at him, I nod and leave. The door was locked, and there’s no one in the hall. Children’s laughter comes from the guest bedroom and a more raucous laugh from a group of adults travels down the hall from the living room. I turn the opposite direction, going into my parents’ empty suite. Locking myself inside it, I slide down the wall, wincing when my ass hits the floor, where I wait for the wrenching pain to pass.

49

SILAS

Ican’t find Lilah anywhere. Worse, the only person my body wants to find ishim. I want to do more than fuck him. I want to scream at him, berate him and humiliate him until everyone in this house knows exactly what a piece of shit he is. How he treats people he makes promises to.

My mind keeps tripping on the video he let me take. Why would he do that? He could have knocked the phone away at any point, but more than once, when I looked down at the screen, it was his half-lidded eyes I saw, staring at it. Atmeas I pounded him harder than anyone I’ve ever screwed in my life.

That goddamn cage…

What the hell was I doing putting my hand on his dick in the first place? That’s the better place to start. If I had to guess, I was trying to get a rise out of him. Remind him I turn him on, and he can deny it in public all he wants, but he and I both know he’s as queer as I am. Maybe I wanted him to remember that.

No. Not want. I needed him to. Needed him to know I haven’t forgotten a thing. My memories of him are tattooed on my brain, branded into my skin. After a year, the second I put my hands onhis body, I felt entitled to it. Last summer, he took away what was mine. Reclaiming it was my fucking privilege.

I could almost smell the spark of the chemical reaction igniting between us when he locked that door. By the time he tried to get closer, I was already hard. His pathetic apologies and excuses only made me want to fuck him more. What the hell does that make me? All I know is it wasn’t like this with Ben when he came home. He ghosted in and out of my life with barely even a thought of mine thrown his way.

But Graham?

Goddamn, he’s still under my skin.

The glimpse I got of the cage before it was smashed against the vanity remains with me as I do a room to room search for Lilah. It was like a full coat of armor, much more restrictive than the one I gave him. I couldn’t even see his cock through it. It was both enraging and an enormous turn on.

I could easily believe he hasn’t been with anyone since me. It’s not a stretch with his father watching him and his desperation to keep up appearances for the senate’s sake. Briefly, it occurs to me to feel guilty for all the men who’ve had me since, but I shove that aside quickly.

Having sex is my job. Gil is maybe slightly more than a job, but what I feel for him isn’t a shard of what I once felt for Graham. So what is this feeling I’m experiencing now?

Frustration mainly—since I can’t locate Lilah.

---