Page 12 of The Mysterious Billionaire
I smile. “Thank you, but I’m fine.” I bend and kiss him. “I want you,” I whisper, needing to make him understand that it’s not all one way.
He nods, his eyes lighting up. “Okay.” He looks around me, finds the bow at the top and undoes it, then starts loosening the bodice.
“You’ll have to help me do it up afterward,” I tell him. “I’ll never be able to do it myself, and I’ll be talk of the town if I go down in a state of disarray.”
“A state of disarray,” he murmurs. “What a great way to put it.” He manages to loosen it all the way to the bottom, and the bodice sags. He pushes it down, revealing my pale breasts with their very pale pink nipples.
“Jesus, you’re beautiful.” He just looks for a moment, his eyes filled with admiration, and that makes me almost tearful. Then he slides a hand beneath one of my breasts, cups it, and lowers his mouth to the nipple.
I slide my hand into his hair as he teases the tip with his tongue, then groan as he sucks it. As a result, he sucks harder, and I arch my back, enjoying the zap of electric arousal all the way down to my clit.
He plays with my breasts for a while, and once again I’m close to coming when he lifts his head. Without warning, he slides his arms around my waist, moves to the edge of the sofa, then tips forward, lowering me onto my back on the carpet.
Propped on his hands, he presses his groin to mine. His erection is long and hard, and I shudder. “I want you inside me,” I whisper.
But he shakes his head. “Not yet. I want to taste you.”
“Ohhh…”
He moves off me, and to my surprise, lies on his back on the carpet. “Come and sit on my face.”
My jaw drops. “What?”
“Come on. Make yourself come on my tongue.” His eyes are bright, feverish.
I’ve never done it that way before, and I sit up and get to my knees. “Are you sure? You know how clumsy I am.”
“I don’t care. Use my face, baby.” He goes to push up his mask.
I stop him, though. “Don’t. I can still do it with your mask on.”
“You’ll scratch your thighs.”
“I’ll manage.” If he takes off his mask, he’ll want me to do the same.
I straddle his waist, lift my skirts with my hands, and move up his body. “Yeah…” he says enthusiastically as he slides his arms beneath my legs and helps me get into position.
Am I really doing this? I must have drunk more than I thought. I’m high on adrenalin and excitement and lust. It’s so rare that I get a chance to feel fully alive like this, and to throw all caution to the wind.
“Come here,” he says from beneath my skirts. “I’m going to eat you alive.”
“Oh God…” I lower down, leaning on the coffee table in front of me for support.
I’m able to fit just beneath his mask if I tilt my pelvis. He strokes my thigh, then I feel his fingers beneath me, teasing my clit before sliding inside me. Fuck, that feels so good… and then his hot mouth fastens on my clit, and I start spinning into outer space. “Ohhh…”
He licks and sucks while his fingers tease and stroke, and I watch the fairy lights twinkling on the Christmas tree through a hazy gaze before closing my eyes. Is this really happening? Or am I going to open my eyes and find I’m still sitting on the stool in the bar, carried away in an elaborate daydream?
My eyelids flutter open again—no, the tree’s still there, and his mouth is still hot, the tip of his tongue circling over my clit, while his fingers stroke firmly inside me. Oh shit, I should warnhim… but I’m too far gone and I’ve lost the power of speech. I rock my hips, arousing myself on his tongue, and I come hard, squealing with the powerful clenches that leave me breathless and panting.
When I’m done, I sit there for a moment, slightly horrified at what’s happened. He’s quiet beneath me, covered by my skirt, although I can feel his lips kissing my inner thighs.
I lift up and move down his body, somewhat clumsily, and find a large damp patch on my skirt. His face is flushed and wet, and he brushes it with a hand.
“Oh my God.” My face burns. “I’m so sorry.”
“Jeez, don’t apologize.” He licks his fingers. “Best to keep hydrated during sex.” He laughs and pulls me forward so I fall onto his chest. “Cupcake,” he murmurs, kissing me. “Hottest girl in the world.”
“Well, maybe the southern hemisphere…” I look at his suit and wail, “I’ve made your shirt wet.”
