The Deception (Filthy Rich Americans 3)

The greedy, selfish part of me didn’t want this to be over. I was close to orgasm. Royce’s mouth lapped at me, and when he added a second finger to join the first, my lips parted into an inaudible cry. Electricity danced over my bare skin. My breasts ached, and my nipples pinched tighter.

So, I kept my tongue leashed and let Macalister watch how his son pleased me. I allowed him to listen to my soft sobs of pleasure and the sound of Royce’s fingers as they made me wetter still.

The wrongness of it was so overwhelming, it consumed everything. It pinned me to my seat on the couch and in Royce’s hands, naked and squirming as I gasped for breath. I tried to keep my gaze on the man kneeling on the floor, but Macalister’s presence demanded attention and stole my focus.

The way his fingers tensed on the doorframe made me think he was imagining what he’d do with them if given the opportunity. How he would use them to coax out an orgasm. It was difficult to concentrate with my climax closing in, but I stared at him, trying to give him the darkest look of disapproval I had.

Without a sound, I made my battle cry.

Macalister made his with the corner of his mouth lifting in an evil smirk.

There was power in this room, and it had all been mine up until this moment. Like a fool, I hadn’t realized we were playing a game, and as usual, Macalister was already two moves ahead. His hand came down off the doorframe and seemed to glide through the air in slow motion.

Holy shit. I watched with dread and sick fascination as he cupped himself through his slacks and began to massage his building erection.

My hands tunneled into Royce’s hair, preventing him from turning and seeing the horrifying thing unfolding behind him. It was hypnotic the way Macalister’s palm slid up and down, and how his fingers clenched and gripped. Dark, twisted satisfaction spread across his face.

He wasn’t mad anymore. No, he was enjoying the view. His gaze trailed over me, lingering on my breasts, and followed the lines of my spread legs. I felt his scrutiny the same way I imagined his cold fingers would feel.

This had to be a bluff, I told myself. Macalister couldn’t stand I’d been in control, and he’d done what he could to level the playing field. I held his gaze with defiance. He wasn’t going to actually . . .

God, I was supposed to know better. It was win at all costs in this family.

I hopelessly chased my breath while watching his fingers methodically undo his fly, and my muscles coiled with anxiety. I choked on air as his zipper was pulled down, tooth by silent tooth. No, no, no, repeated in my head, but I didn’t issue a whisper to stop it. I was drunk off desire.

The flurry of Royce’s tongue seduced. His fingers touched the spot deep inside me that made my heart skip and stumble. I was right on the ledge, only a fingertip’s grip away from falling into ecstasy.

My frantic gaze bounced between him and Macalister’s hand as he buried it inside his undone pants and dug around. And then it began to move, sliding up and down in long strokes.

It was beyond fucked up. So perverse, even the Greek gods might have been proud.

Royce’s fingers plunged inside me so fast the couch began to shake, and I forced my gaze down, wanting to see him and nothing else. I was a passenger who naïvely boarded a rollercoaster, but only once I was strapped in and the cars were climbing the hill did I realize what a mistake I’d made.

I needed off. I had to find a way to stop it, I had to—

Satisfaction erupted and burst from my core, spiraling out along my limbs faster than lightning as I came. A shocked moan crashed through me while I flinched and contracted and let go of Royce’s head. It felt like I was being jolted with a Taser, only instead of painful electricity, it was hot pleasure.

He sat back but left his fingers buried inside me, where he could feel every reactive pulse my body gripped him with. He watched me with wonderment and desire, and I forgot about the other man in the room. All I wanted was the one who’d waited a year to have me, even when he wasn’t sure he’d get to.

The man I loved who was trying to dethrone a king.

“Royce.” My voice cracked with emotion as I begged. “Make love to me.”

For a moment, Hades stepped aside, and Ares took over. His expression said he’d go to war and march through hell, and Royce would spend every last dollar he had to keep me. Nothing would stand in his way.