The Temptation (Filthy Rich Americans 5)

Which was good because it would have died in my throat anyway. Vance hooked two fingers into the side of my panties, jerked them out of his way, and swooped down to press his mouth to the most intimate part of me. It was the exact spot where he’d created a throbbing ache.

“Oh, fuck,” I groaned, turning my head to the side and arching my back at the sudden and acute pleasure.

His warm lips parted to allow his tongue to come out and play. The sensation of it brushing over my clit—holy shit. Sparks skittered across my skin. His seductive kiss was aggressive, and it was almost violent the way he fucked me with his mouth. All the urgency he’d had leading up to this moment was still there. It didn’t diminish—in fact it seemed to intensify.

I heaved air in and out and clawed at the cushions beneath me. Vance’s forearms were under my legs, and he had both hands curled around my thighs, my underwear still pulled out of his way by his fingers. He knelt on the floor in front of me, completely dressed in his expensive clothes, and there was something incredibly appealing about it. Like what he was doing was solely about my pleasure.

Not his.

I’d never had a partner who’d focused singularly on me. One who didn’t value their enjoyment over mine. I would have thought Vance would be a selfish lover because he hadn’t had to work for anything in his life, but . . . maybe I was wrong.

As the tip of Vance’s tongue ran up and down through my bare slit, he peered at me with a hooded, desire-filled gaze. Was it possible he was enjoying this nearly as much as I was? He seemed to be.

Wait, no. That couldn’t be true, because it physically felt so fucking amazing, and his pleasure was by proxy. How could it compare to mine?

I moved my hips, either encouraging him or simply because I couldn’t control myself. I writhed beneath his incessant mouth, and he pulled desperate moans from my lips. It felt like we’d moved too fast but also frustratingly too slow.

Every second since we’d met . . . that had been foreplay.

Now, I was eager for him to make good on his promise.

My legs shook. Sweat dampened the hair at the back of my neck. Blood roared in my ears, and my heart pounded as he increased the pressure of his tongue’s strokes. His lips closed over my clit and sucked gently. Tension corded my muscles as I felt the pull toward an orgasm.

But he drew away and sat back on his legs, which took his incredible mouth away from me, and I sighed at the loss. He also let go of my panties, making the damp lace snap back into place and cover me.

It was momentary, thankfully. His warm, strong hands smoothed over my legs, caressing my sensitized skin as his fingers inched up to the waistband of my underwear.

His voice was thick with wickedness. “I don’t think you need these anymore. Do you?”

I swallowed hard and shook my head furiously, making him chuckle at my response. He trailed his fingertips along the edge of the lace before grasping it with both hands and began tugging. It urged me to raise my legs and put my knees together, making it easier for him to draw the panties up and off.

They fell silently to the floor as he cast them aside. He slid his hands between my knees, peeled them apart, and stared down at my nakedness. Blood heated my cheeks. He’d already seen me, but now I was completely nude. I didn’t mind how the lights were on, and I wasn’t shy about my body, but the carnal expression painting his face was so powerful, I flushed in response.

“Look at this pretty pussy.” He said it like he was talking to himself. “All wet and bare for me. So fucking sexy.” He dragged the pad of his thumb over my swollen clit, and I jolted from his touch. The pleasure he created was gripping and sharp. His gaze flicked to mine, and a smug smile teased his lips. “Looks like my money was well spent at the spa.”

“Oh, my God.”

When he’d sent me to the spa, he’d told me to get whatever services I wanted, so I had. The first ever Brazilian wax I’d had would likely be my last one too. I imagined the luxury spa had top-notch staff and technique, but it certainly hadn’t been pain-free as advertised, plus I’d had to have all my lady bits on display to a complete stranger.

Today was the first day my skin wasn’t hot or tender from the wax. I liked the results but wasn’t sure it was worth the effort. Vance, on the other hand, looked thrilled. He swiped his thumb over me again, enjoying his unhindered view and how I flinched from the sensation.