The Temptation (Filthy Rich Americans #5) Read Online Nikki Sloane

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Erotic, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Filthy Rich Americans Series by Nikki Sloane
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Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 101829 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
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Plus, he’d been there for me every night, chasing my doubt away when I worried I couldn’t conquer my goal. I needed to do the same for him.

“You’re not giving up,” I said, easing him back so there was space between our bodies. “In three days, you can have me,” I wrapped my hand around him and filled my voice with gravity, “any way you want.”

He jerked in my fist and his eyes filled with steam. I clamped both hands around him, squeezing a grunt of satisfaction from him.

My voice rasped with sex as I spoke. “Let me tell you what I’d do to you if I could.”

I’d never talked dirty before, but it poured from me with ease. I told him how I wanted to use my mouth on him. Tease him with my tongue. Wrap my lips around his big dick and take him deep. And as I detailed my fantasy to him, I stroked my hands steadily along his length.

His mouth hung open and he gazed at me like I was too sexy to be real, but I thought the same of him. His expression was carnal, and I saw the ravenous wolf I’d gotten hints of before. My tempo was quick, but not as quick as he would have liked, because his hips began to move. It made him slide back and forth between my tight fingers, like he was fucking my hands.

“Is that how fast you want me to go,” I asked, “when I fuck you with my mouth?”

He groaned in approval. I had my hands clasped low above my stomach, letting him rock over me, and heat fogged everything outside of him. But my hands were dry, and I wanted it to feel as good for him as possible, so I lifted one hand to my mouth. His eyes darkened as he watched me lick my palm.

I did one, then the other, making it easier for him to glide through my hands and imagine the dampness of my mouth.

“God, I can’t wait to do it,” I purred. “I can’t wait for you to come in my mouth and feel every pulse when you do it.”

It was like I’d punched the words from him. “Oh, fuck.”

He was already close, but suddenly, he was very, very close, and I loved the idea that my fantasy was helping push him over the edge. We moved as a team, working together to get him there, and I watched in amazement as his eyes slammed shut and the muscles in the arms around me corded with tension.

His hips slowed to a jerky stop as he came, and wave after wave of warm, thick cum flicked onto my stomach and breasts. There was something primal about it I enjoyed. Physical proof that I’d given him satisfaction, and symbolic proof I was his.

Vance pushed out a long, shuddering breath before rising onto his knees, and gripped himself to wring out the final drops of his orgasm. He stared down at me, surveying the work we’d done, and—God—his smile blasted heat into every inch of me.

I lay still on the rug while he stood, pulled up his pants, and zipped up. The room was quiet other than his muted footfalls as he strolled to the desk and tugged several tissues from the box there.

He asked it in a soft voice, like it was more for himself than me. “What are you doing to me?”

How was I supposed to answer that? Surely the effect he had over me was more powerful. I should be the one asking him that.

He came over and knelt beside me, using the tissues to clean me up, and when it was done, he curled up on his side. He tucked a hand under his head and stared into my eyes like they had the answers he desired.

I rolled onto my side toward him, bringing us closer, but it made a lock of hair fall over my face. He reached out, tracing a fingertip over my forehead to brush the hair back, and tucked it behind my ear. If he were trying to manipulate opening my heart, this tender gesture would have been a suspicious click, letting him know he was on the right path to discovering the combination.

“Thank you,” he said quietly.

I gave him a lopsided smile. “For jerking you off?”

His short laugh was warm, but sincerity moved in, taking over his expression. “I meant thank you for not letting me give up.”

“Of course.”

This time, the click in my heart was much louder, and I had to swallow a breath to disguise it.

SEVENTEEN

VANCE

The final three days were torture. I was dying to be with Emery, and I’d meant what I said. I didn’t just want her physically, but in every way. I spent each day at the office counting down the time until I was home, and she’d arrive for practice. I’d watch her work, and when it was done, we’d simply spend time together.



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