The Redemption (Filthy Rich Americans 4)

It took only a few more pumps before it happened. The muscles in his legs strained, and he jerked, his breath cutting off. One of his hands let go of my hair, making it spill like a curtain around my face, but I could still see well enough to watch his head tip back to the ceiling. He threw his forearm over his eyes, his entire body shuddering.

“Fuck,” he groaned.

I nearly came myself, hearing my favorite word draw from his lips and to know I was the cause.

He spurted in rhythmic jerks, filling my mouth, and I swallowed as quickly as possible, keeping my lips fixed tight around him. Not that I could go anywhere. His hand cupped the back of my head and held me in place as his climax rolled through. When the pleasure began to ebb, he eventually released me. The flick of my tongue as I made my retreat caused him to flinch, still overly sensitive from the orgasm.

I sat back on my heels and gazed up at him sprawled across the couch. He looked devastatingly gorgeous laid out like this. As if I’d drained most of the power from him, but each ragged breath he took worked to restore it. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, and he finally lifted his head and set his intense, focused gaze on me.

He’d found his release, but he stared back at me like he wasn’t yet satisfied. Macalister was still famished, and the pleasure he wanted to consume now would be mine.

But trepidation flooded my stomach, and years of anxiety weighed me down. I craved attention, but only when it was for the right reasons. Foreplay for me was nice and all, but it was an exercise in frustration. With sex, I was able to just enjoy without feeling the pressure to achieve. Because everyone knew women didn’t come every time they had sex, so it seemed normal to guys when I didn’t.

But foreplay?

I’d never had an orgasm from someone going down on me.

Or using their fingers.

In fact, I’d never come in front of anyone else. I could do it myself, but only in the darkness of my room, alone in my bed.

Macalister leaned forward, his face close to mine and his woodsy aftershave faintly noticeable, grabbed the sides of his pants, and pulled them back up. He tucked himself away, zipped up and buttoned, then refastened his belt, moving with practiced hands. The mood in the room was still sexually charged, but it morphed into one that was taut with tension.

“Stand up,” he commanded.

I wasn’t trying to defy him, but my body wouldn’t cooperate. All I could do was stare at his feet. I sensed his confusion, even without looking at him. A breath passed between us, and he climbed to his feet, standing beside me before holding out a hand to help me up.

I took it, only for him to haul me upright and into his embrace. His fingers were cold, but his body was hot, and when my breasts flattened to his bare chest, desire licked at me. It burned in his eyes as well, but I only caught a glimpse before he buried his mouth in the crook of my neck.

His stubble scraped across my sensitive skin as he feasted on my neck, sucking and nibbling. I was pliant in his arms, growing weaker with every kiss. And then he leaned down, just enough so he could course a hand between my thighs and drag it upward, pulling a moan from my throat.

God, that felt good. Just the brush of his hand over me gave a warm flash of pleasure.

His voice was wrapped in seduction, slinking through the cloudy desire in my head. “Give me the name,” he whispered, “and I’ll let you come.”

The laugh that burst from me was unstoppable. He might as well have said he’d let me sprout wings and fly away, so I didn’t bother to rein in my sarcastic reaction. “No, thanks.”

He went wooden, his eyes turning hard. “Why do you find that amusing? You don’t think I can bring you to orgasm?”

“Nope,” I said without hesitation.

It was like I’d just spit on his mother’s grave. Macalister’s eyebrow lifted sharply, and his posture straightened. “I’m good at nearly everything I do, but there are two things I truly excel at.” His expression dripped with arrogance. “Banking is the other one.”

I rolled my eyes for the second time tonight. “Awesome.”

“I am not exaggerating.”

There was something about me that made people want to confess their secrets, like I was human truth serum, but I wondered if he was the same for me. I’d already revealed things to him I hadn’t told anyone else, so what difference did it make if I did some more?

“Maybe you are great, but your talent would be wasted on me.”