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The Redemption (Filthy Rich Americans 4)

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“Okay, then,” I breathed. “Yes.”

This time, I didn’t stop him as he pulled his lips back into a satisfied smile. He plucked the barbell from its perch, closed the box with a snap, and set it beside me on the table. His gaze swept down the length of my body before returning to my face, and his expression shifted to one of determination. “Lie back.”

My pulse skipped along, and nerves trembled in my belly. He was going to change out my piercing right now, and holy fuck, my insides turned to liquid, rushing toward my center. The table was smooth and cold against my back, and I brought my feet up to rest flat on the edge.

His cool fingertips pressed to the inside of my thigh and nudged my knee to the side so he had more light and more room to work in. There was a faint clink as the diamond barbell was set aside for a moment, and he leaned in, using both hands to peel me apart. I pressed my lips together as he grasped both ends of my existing jewelry. The silver barbell had pink rhinestones encased in a ball at both ends, but they were internally threaded, so he might not know how it came out.

“The bottom one unscrews,” I whispered.

I lifted my head to spot his expression etched with concentration. It was a delicate area, and he was mindful, not wanting to hurt me as he began to twist. A tiny moan drifted from my throat as his fingers brushed over me, and it gave him pause. His gaze flew up to check in with me.

But I made it clear he hadn’t done anything wrong. It was merely a side effect of his touch.

His fingers resumed moving, and then they were gone, screwing the barbell back together in his hands. It was stored in the black leather box, which was then pocketed, and the diamond one was picked up.

It wasn’t as easy to put the new one in as it’d been to take the other out, but after a few attempts, he’d pushed the stem through to the other side of my piercing and began screwing on the silver ball at the bottom. When it was done, he stepped back, one hand resting on my propped-up knee, and admired his work.

Macalister sighed contently, the sound filling the dining room and causing a bolt of pleasure to course through me. I looked down, and the sparkling diamond winked back at me. It looked so, so good.

“I love it,” I said, suddenly bashful.

He didn’t respond with words, but he didn’t need to. There was no doubt in my mind he loved the way it looked and all the conditions that went with it. The glaciers of his eyes heated with desire.

That was the only warning I got of his plan before he began to act. He dropped down into his seat and pulled it up to the table, then slid his arms under my legs. He wrapped his hands around my thighs and jerked me closer, my bare skin squealing across the table as I was dragged along it. It was so he could lean down and cover my new jewelry with his mouth.

“Fuck,” I said in a startled moan, arching my back.

A sound of disapproval at my profanity came from him, immediately followed by a sound of enjoyment, and the hands around my thighs squeezed, his fingers digging in. There was a tug of suction against my clit, and white-hot heat shot down my legs.

I’d always enjoyed it when a guy went down on me, but every sensation was multiplied a thousand times over because this was Macalister. The slow slide of the tip of his tongue over my clit made moans leak from my mouth. His sharp flicks caused gasps and jolts.

I peered at him in his tuxedo, his handsome face deep between my legs, and loved how his eyes were closed as if he were savoring me. He opened his mouth for a moment, so I caught a glimpse of his fluttering pink tongue as it played with the diamond, and the vision seared into my brain. It was beyond sexy.

It was mindless the way I writhed on the table beneath his hot, wicked mouth. He varied his speed and technique, finding new ways to pull sighs and deep, throaty moans from me. His hands strayed from my legs, roaming up to fondle and grip my breasts.

His tongue worked me over, massaging and caressing, and he seemed to enjoy exploring and playing with my piercing, tracing down one side and back up the other. My legs were shaking, and the trembling moved along my body, sweeping across my stomach.

“Oh, my God,” I gasped.

I’d dreamed about this. I’d visualized grabbing onto his salt and pepper hair as he tormented and teased with his incredible mouth, using it to do what no other man had before. In my fantasizes, I came so fast.


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