The Initiation (Filthy Rich Americans 1)

It was still a lot, and he made me uncomfortably full, but my body seemed to adjust quicker this time. Once he was seated fully inside, I let out a tight breath. He lifted his head, opened his eyes, and simply stared at me like I was a wonderous creature.

His hand on my waist urged me once again to rock on him. The gentle, slow stroke wrung a whimper from my lips but set him on alert.

“How does it feel?” he asked.

“It feels . . . good.”

A smile hinted his expression, but I moved my hips, and he went serious again.

As I hesitantly found my rhythm, his sensual hands resumed their work. They caressed my breasts, notching over my hardened nipples. They smoothed along my thighs. Slid up my back, tracing my spine with his fingertips.

Royce sat there, and his heavy eyes watched me as I rode him, my body undulating, letting me find my way. But the tightness inside me kept building. The feeling of urgency twisted harder, squeezing the air from my lungs.

I had my hands on his chest for leverage, but I lifted them and laced my fingers together behind his neck, pulling him to me. When our mouths locked together, time suspended. Nothing existed outside of this room. Nothing lived beyond the two of us, our bodies connected as one.

I writhed on him until sweat dampened our temples and moans drifted from our lips. I held his head in my arms, crushing him to my breasts, relishing the way he teased me with his mouth and teeth. His hands on my ass pushed and pulled, lifting me to keep up the urgent tempo we were both desperate for.

When my leg muscles began to fatigue, he must have sensed it.

“Lean back,” he encouraged. His arm looped behind me. “I’ve got you.”

I did as he asked, arching my back and setting my hands behind me on his knees. It made enough space so he could push a hand between our bodies and touch my clit.

“Oh, my God,” I groaned, pleasure nearly overwhelming me.

I threw my head back, and beneath me, he took over. His deep thrusts shook my body all the way down to my foundation. And that fucking hand of his. It just kept stirring and moving and pleasing. I was a quivering mess as my orgasm approached.

He grunted and strained as he chased his breath, but he didn’t stop driving. Not even when a loud gasp burst from my mouth and I came. Heat, coupled with deep satisfaction, poured down through me, wave after wave, seemingly endless. I’d only started to come down from my orgasm when his started.

He clamped his strong arms around my shuddering body and buried his face in my chest while a series of pleasure-soaked moans fell from his lips. He gasped one after another against my naked flesh.

Like a coin in a spiral funnel, time restarted slowly. It looped one tediously long second and sped gradually with each pass, spinning faster as it closed in on the center. Round and round it went until it was a flashing blur of movement, and then . . . time snapped back to normal as it dropped into the well below.

Royce softened his hold on me, just enough to peer up into my eyes. “That should have been our first time.”

I dropped a kiss on his lips. “It was.”

TWENTY

ROYCE AND I SPENT AWHILE KISSING on the loveseat, but eventually my legs protested how I was straddling him, and I climbed off. We dressed, and when he fished his shirt off the floor, I took it and tossed it across the room.

“You look good naked,” I said. “I think I like you better that way.”

He chuckled as he went after it. “I also prefer you naked. Maybe don’t bring any clothes when you move in.”

My smile drained. “I have to tell you something else.”

He had his head halfway through the neck hole of his t-shirt, and his movements slowed as he pulled it on.

“When I danced with your father, he said some stuff.”

“About me.” It was a statement, not a question from Royce.

“Yeah.”

A tight smile pinched on his face. “Don’t trust anything that comes out of his mouth, but just for fun, what’d he say?”

“He basically told me not to trust anything that comes out of your mouth.”

This time his smile was more of a smirk. As I looked down at my engagement ring, my shoulders slumped.

He picked up on my unease. “What is it?”

My stomach was full of acid and a sour taste filled my mouth as I worked up the courage. “He said he owns me, and eventually he’ll have me.”

Royce solidified. He locked down his doors and shuttered the windows, going immobile.

Had I just flipped some sort of fail-safe switch and deactivated him?