The Deception (Filthy Rich Americans 3) - Page 17

Although he was doing the majority of the work, it didn’t matter. I quickly went out of breath, even as all I had to do was kneel on the carpet beside the bed and let him fuck my mouth. An ache swelled inside me, hot and needy, and I shifted in my position so I could press my knees together and clench against the sensation.

Royce picked up the pace, sawing his hard cock in and out until it was slippery with my saliva and soreness crept along the muscles of my jaw. As his satisfaction began to build, his careful control slipped. The hand on the back of my head was firm and dominating. It urged me to rock with him and move faster.

Desperate, urgent, mindless sounds drifted from him. Sighs and groans soaked in pleasure. It made me squeeze my thighs harder against the ache. Was I . . . going to come? Just from listening to him? The power he gave me was like being high, and I wanted more.

“Yeah.” His quiet encouragement was sandwiched between deep gulps of air. “Fuck, yeah.”

I pushed my hair back out of my face, which had become damp with sweat. My heart beat wildly, pounding in my chest, and I swirled my tongue over him to mimic its frantic pace. His hips bucked and his cock throbbed, but he didn’t slow down.

My gaze flicked up to connect with his. He was my beautiful Ares, the god of war, and I was happy to be conquered by him.

“You’re gonna make me come. Is that what you want, Marist?” His tone was sinful. “You want me to fill up your virgin mouth?”

I moaned my approval, and it made him wild.

The bed creaked quietly from his strong thrusts. His hips weren’t even on the mattress anymore, giving him more room to piston himself in and out of my mouth. I tried to match his intensity, sliding my tight fist furiously along the part of him I couldn’t fit past my lips.

It unleashed a moan from him that could have doubled as a sound of pain, but it was obviously pleasure. His body jerked, and his controlling hand on my head locked down, holding me still as he erupted.

Hot, thick liquid filled my mouth in spurts, and his chaotic gasps of satisfaction came in waves. He shuddered like thunder was rolling through him before he sank down onto his back. When my throat bobbed in a thick swallow, it dragged a final, deep groan from him.

The taste of him lingered in the back of my throat. It wasn’t like the girls made it seem in porn, but with his reaction, I didn’t mind it. When he stopped throbbing, I pulled away, sat back on the legs folded beneath me, and wiped my hand across my kiss-swollen, damp lips.

“Fuck,” he uttered into the stillness that had settled around us. It deepened the contrast between the quiet now and the sounds of sex that had filled the room just moments before.

It was a battlefield after the cannons had gone quiet, and he lay on the bed as if I’d slain him.

Then, his chest rose with a heavy breath, followed by another, and his hands went to his hips, jerking the sides of his jeans and underwear up to cover himself. He moved swiftly, doing up his fly, and once finished, he bolted upright. His hands scooped under my arms, and he dragged me into his lap so I was sitting on him, one leg on either side.

It surprised me when his mouth claimed mine, so soon after what we’d done, but he didn’t seem to care, and I was greedy for his kiss. It was intense and full of unexpected, real passion. In the aftermath of his orgasm, I wondered if he was even capable of lying.

“Was it everything you’d hoped it’d be?” he teased but then turned serious. “Because it was for me. That felt fucking amazing.”

A smile burned across my lips and heated my face. “I’m glad you let me talk you into it.”

One more short kiss was all I got before his arms banded around my back and he was moving—turning us until I was flopped down on my back on the bed, him crawling over me. He kept himself supported on his hands and knees, so I wasn’t crushed beneath him, but he was close enough our bodies were connected.

I arched my back, pressing harder against him. I wanted to feel his weight on me. His skin touching mine. But he shifted to the side so one hip rested beside mine on the bed and coursed a hand over my leg, up under my skirt. It was so he could grip the back of my thigh and lift, draping my leg up over his waist.

Tags: Nikki Sloane Filthy Rich Americans Billionaire Romance
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