The Deception (Filthy Rich Americans 3)

It was a raw display of sex and power, and he was utterly in control of everything. Her pace. His pleasure. My emotions.

My face burned, and my pulse was in overdrive. I tried to control my breathing, but it came and went in ragged bursts. The physical response to the lewd scene playing out before me was that I grew embarrassingly damp between my legs, and it was like he knew. He licked his lips and gazed at me as the hungry Minotaur.

“I want you,” he growled.

Three plain words, but they carried an enormous gravity coming from him, especially when there was a woman at his feet, surrendering over again to him with each stroke of her hand and swirl of her tongue.

Pinpricks of anger stabbed at my skin and injected fire into my bloodstream. “You can’t have me.”

“I already do, Marist.” His grin was more like a sneer. “I haven’t been inside you or tasted your pretty little cunt yet, but I own you. You’re mine.”

Alice pulled back off him and jerked to a stop. “What? You haven’t . . .”

Her stunned eyes searched his when he glanced down, her hair still clenched in his fist.

“That’s right. You weren’t made aware.” He was condescending. “She made Royce my proxy that night and gave him my time. So, the answer is no. I was denied my two minutes and wasn’t allowed to touch her.”

Her shocked gaze swung from him to me, and the room went still.

Her lips were swollen and glossy from what she’d been doing, and they parted like she wanted to say something, but nothing came out. Regret built in her, layer by painful layer, as she realized she’d tried to kill me based off her assumptions.

And those assumptions had been wrong.

TEN

MACALISTER’S AGGRESSIVE HAND JERKED ON ALICE’S HAIR, forcing her mouth back around him. She only hesitated for a second. Then he didn’t need to give her as much guidance as he had before. She shifted on the floor, widening her knees a little, and made a moan of approval.

If anything, she looked fucking thrilled. As if she hadn’t lost him to me after all. Like there was still hope she could get him back.

Love had made her delusional, but I saw him with clear eyes. The Minotaur didn’t care about the people once they’d been consumed, and he’d used her all up.

I crossed my legs and ran a hand through my hair, affecting the demeanor of someone who didn’t care that they were sitting ten feet away from a man with his dick halfway down his wife’s throat. I was strong and unbreakable. The Minotaur couldn’t eat Medusa. She was just as much of a monster as he was, if not more.

“I’m not yours, I’m Royce’s.” I leveled the darkest gaze I possessed at him. “Are you almost finished? I have shit to do.”

It was the equivalent of entering the endgame, and he was pissed he didn’t get to do it on his terms. “I’m sure.” His blue eyes turned to storms, and electricity crackled in the clouds. “Will you use the vibrator I gave you while you do it? I still have the controls set on my phone.”

The perfect rhythm Alice had been keeping abruptly fell apart, but he gripped the hair at the top of her head with his other hand, so he could push and pull her with both. A single bead of sweat rolled down over his defined chest, coursing a jerky path over his flat stomach.

“And I still remember what you sound like,” his words were clipped, “when I brought you to orgasm with it.”

The shudder his memory forced on me was strategic. It kept my tongue still long enough for him to squeeze out another comment.

“Next time I make you come,” he said with a loud exhale, “I’ll be inside you.”

My mouth fell open. Not so much from what he’d said, but the way his body moved. Vibrations undulated through his arms as he fucked her mouth at breakneck speed, and darkness overwhelmed his expression. His chest was heaving with labored breath, mixed with groans that were soaked in pleasure, and it continued to build.

Oh, God. He was about to come, and I sat rooted to my chair, not wanting to watch but also dying to know what he looked like when he lost control.

Abruptly, he took one urgent step backward, and as soon as he was out of Alice’s mouth, his hand was there to replace it. He kept hold of the hair on the top of her head so she couldn’t go anywhere, but he issued the order anyway.

“Stay still.”

He ran his palm over the swollen length of himself, twisting his grip that was so tight, his cock lost some of its color. It was hypnotic how he jerked in shallow, furious strokes. The tip of him was only an inch from her face, and she must have figured out his intent, because her eyes slammed shut.