Page 108 of A Convenient Secret

“So good,” she mews.

The sound has me groaning again. “Does your pussy need to be filled? Is it quivering with that need?” The words scratch my throat, barely passing through.

“Yes. I want you to fill me.”

“Imagine it’s my hand, Seagull—where would you want it?”

She thrusts her fingers inside herself, and her back arches off the bed.

Fuuuuuuuuck.

I stand up, hoping a few paces back and forth will help my throbbing situation.

“Declan,” Lily breathes out, her voice both wanton and innocent. So vulnerable, and yet so beautifully strong.

“My other hand would be squeezing those beautiful tits of yours. Give your nipples some love.” I sit back down, unable to move anymore.

She keeps fucking her hand and reaches to squeeze her breast through her T-shirt. She groans and pinches her nipple between her fingers.

“Tell me how you feel, baby.” I don’t even recognize my voice. I lean back, spreading my legs, but that gives me no relief.

“It’s not enough. Your monstrous cock ruined this for me,” she whimpers.

And while I want her to find her release, the idea that she needs me now to get there makes me grow a few inches. Figuratively, but also painfully real behind my zipper. I groan again.

“Fuck it.” Lily sits up and reaches for her drawer. She takes something out.

Flipping to all fours, she juts her ass up as she shoves a fucking dildo into herself.

“Fuck, Lily, you’re killing me here.”

She rides the toy, and I reach into my pants. Not to break my word, just to give myself a squeeze. It only makes things worse, but I promised, so now I suffer.

“You should see yourself, Lily. Finish for me.”

“I-am-I-am-close.”

“That’s my girl. Turn to me. I want to see your face.”

She shuffles around and leans back on her haunches, thrusting up and down while she looks into the camera.

She cries out, closing her eyes. Her head falls back, the pleasure raking through her body. She’s always been beautiful to me, but in this moment… I fucking screenshot the beauty.

The toy falls from her hands, and she collapses to the mattress, a smile lingering on her face.

Beethoven’sFür Eliseechoes around the house when I arrive. Zach has soccer and Zoya has ballet, so Lily must be with one of them. I came early to surprise them when they returned home. Did I get the days wrong?

I drop the keys and enter the living room to find Lily and Zach behind the piano. I stop in my tracks, first hit by the sight of her. She’s smiling and nodding to the rhythm.

The sun bathes the room, illuminating her face as she’s looking at my son with pride and affection. The image gets stuck in my throat, making it difficult to swallow.

But it’s Zach’s perfect, flawless rendition of theclassic that shocks me even more. My son plays the piano?

Instead of soccer?

Behind my back?

I’m hit with so many conflicting emotions, I clench my fists. While the music reverberates around the room, the prevailing one is pride. He’s really good.