The Temptation (Filthy Rich Americans 5)

On some level, I’d heard him shuffling around behind me, but I hadn’t realized he’d lain down with his back on the rug, until he began to scoot beneath me.

I flattened a hand on the safe door to stop my jolt of surprise. “What are you doing?”

Shit, his voice was sexy and playful. “Helping.”

I stared down in disbelief as he positioned his head between my knees. “How is this helping?”

“You don’t want anyone to catch me eating your pussy, do you?”

There was no time to process what he’d just said. His strong hands clasped around my thighs and pulled me back onto his face. His lips parted, and his tongue licked a line from my entrance up to my clit, and my entire body shuddered with pleasure. It made my fingers curl inward, and I scratched my nails across the textured front of the Lagerfield.

His mouth was bliss.

I had to fight the urge to lean forward and rest my forehead against the safe door. Time was running out on the clock, plus if I was too loud, it might draw someone in here. They’d walk in to see me naked except for a pair of headphones and thin latex gloves while I straddled Vance’s face.

As he always did, he seemed to be enjoying using his mouth as much as I enjoyed experiencing it. His hands slid forward and up on my thighs, so he could use his fingers to peel me open to his lush tongue.

My breath came and went in shallow bursts, and my vision hazed from the pleasure, but I fought to focus in on the clicks coming through my headphones. His tongue lashed at me, fluttering and cartwheeling, but I didn’t dare look down. I was sure he was watching me, and if I looked into his eyes right now, I’d abandon my task and grip a handful of his hair to position his mouth at the exact spot to send me over the edge.

“Fuck,” I breathed.

I was so close. Not just to being ready to try the sequences, but to losing control. It was a race against the clock and my orgasm. I ticked the dial, focusing in on the telltale heavy click I’d come to learn was what I was looking for.

My hand shook as I listed out the four numbers on the piece of paper taped to the door. I dialed the sequence as written, pulled the handle, and when it didn’t budge, I zeroed it out and tried my second sequence.

When Vance saw what I was doing, he kicked into overdrive. His lips closed around my clit and sucked, sending sparks of heat shooting down my legs. I groaned, half with pleasure and half with desperation.

“Goddamnit,” I whispered when my next three attempts didn’t work.

I spun the dial as fast as I could, holding back the sensations he caused. The fifth attempt failed. As did the sixth. Blood rushed loudly through my ears, and my heartrate climbed toward the ceiling.

The seventh attempt wasn’t right.

The eighth wasn’t either.

“Motherfucker,” I bit out under my breath.

When the tenth attempt failed, I started to second guess myself. Which number was I least confident about? If all fifteen combinations didn’t work, would I have time to start over with a new set? What if I had the right combination sequence and had blown past it due to my shaky hand?

My anxiety spiraled around me like rope, twisting tighter with each turn of the dial. The eleventh sequence wasn’t right. I sucked in a breath and held it, spinning the wheel as steady as I could, given my whole body was shaking.

The timer from Vance’s phone went off, ringing its startling electronic trill at the same moment I twisted the handle, and the door cracked open.

Yes.

Victory poured through me, and I grasped the spokes of the wheel in both hands, falling forward to rest my forehead on the backs of my palms.

One of his hands came off me and slapped around on the rug until he found his phone and shut off the incessant timer. And since I’d done it, he seemed determined to give me a reward. His tongue flurried over my skin, with just the right amount of pressure, and in just the right place, and . . . and . . .

“Oh, God, I’m coming,” I sobbed with relief.

It was one of those orgasms where it made every muscle contract, and as it gripped me, wave after wave rolled through. Heat blasted up my spine, sending fireworks out along every nerve ending. I squeezed so hard on the wheel, I expected it to break off in my hands.

I was left tinglingly numb as my climax receded, and the tension in my muscles began to fade. The air in the room was thin, and I struggled to drag some of it into my lungs, using the last of my waning strength not to sag into Vance and smother him to death.