Page 11 of The Mysterious Billionaire
As I walk across to look out at the city, he lets the door close behind him, then follows me in. I turn and watch him flick open the buttons of his jacket as he circles the sofa, but he doesn’ttake it off. Instead, he removes his phone and presses a couple of buttons, maybe switching off his notifications, then places it on the coffee table.
“Can I get you something to drink?” he asks. “I can order up some champagne. And are you hungry?”
It’s kind of him to ask, but I know he doesn’t have long. He’s the patron, and he should be greeting guests and meeting dignitaries. His sister must be popping a blood vessel wondering where he is. If he’s absent for too long, they’ll probably send out a search party.
“No,” I say. “Thank you.”
I drop my clutch bag onto the armchair. Then I lift a foot and rest it on the coffee table. The skirt splits, revealing my thigh, but I don’t cover it as I bend and carefully remove my sandal.
Caesar doesn’t say anything. He watches as I do the same with my other foot, removing the sandal. Now I’m about a foot shorter than him, and my skirt brushes the carpet as I walk around the table to stand in front of him.
Reaching up, I push his jacket over his shoulders. He lets me, breathing hard. I catch it as it falls and lay it across the coffee table.
I turn back to him. I lift my arms around his neck. Then, without warning, I jump and wrap my legs around his waist.
He catches me but loses his balance, and he falls back onto the sofa with me on top of him. We bounce and laugh, and then I take his face in my hands and kiss him, delving my tongue into his mouth.
He tips his head to the side to change the angle and deepens the kiss, holding my head there with the back of his hand. I sigh as he strokes his tongue against mine and inhale the delicious scents of his cologne, the whisky he was drinking, and clean warm male skin.
His mouth leaves mine, and he kisses my jaw, my neck, and around to my ear. “Aaahhh,” he says, the word just a long sigh. “You smell amazing.” He touches his tongue to my skin and presses his lips behind my ear. “I’ve been wanting to do this since we started talking.”
I tip my head to the side to give him better access and thread a hand into his hair. The short hairs of the soft fade at the back prickle my fingers, and then my fingers slide into the longer hair on the top. I tighten my fingers and pull his head back so he’s looking up into my eyes. Behind the mask, his eyes are a deep brown in the subdued lighting, lit with gold from the flickering tree lights.
I feel wild, daring, impulsive, reckless. I like sex, but I’m easily intimidated, and I haven’t yet met a guy who’s interested in suggestions in the bedroom. I wouldn’t stand a chance with Caesar in real life for various reasons, but here in the hotel room, Cupcake is braver and more daring than I could ever be.
“I want you,” I whisper, bending to brush my lips lightly over his.
“I’m all yours.” He shudders as I nip his bottom lip. I do it again, and he groans and opens his mouth for me to plunge my tongue inside.
This time, as I kiss him, he slides his hands up from my knees, pushing the dress up with them to reveal my bare thighs. When he gets to the top, he moves his hands around my hips to my ass… then stops and tears his lips from mine.
He looks at me in astonishment. “Have you been going commando all the time I’ve been talking to you?”
“Didn’t want a VPL,” I point out. “And I’d have spent all evening fidgeting if I’d worn a G-string.”
“Holy fuck.” He strokes his hands over my bare butt, cups it, and squeezes the muscles gently. “You’re the sexiest woman I’ve ever met.”
That thrills me, because nobody’s ever said anything like that to me before. “I never realized how hot it is when someone’s attracted to you,” I murmur, stroking his face. He’s shaved recently, and there’s not a hint of stubble on his jaw.
“I don’t understand why you don’t have a guy worshipping the ground you walk on.” His voice is little more than a growl. “You’re so fucking sexy.” He slides his hands down my thighs, then slowly back up, his thumb brushing the sensitive skin on my inner thigh. When he gets to the top, he strokes his thumbs between my legs.
“Fuck,” he says, obviously discovering how smooth I am down there. Thank God I got waxed yesterday. “Ahhh…” He moves one thumb down, finds my clit, and circles the pad of his thumb over it.
I groan, my face filling with heat. “Ohhh, that feels good…”
“Open your legs a bit more for me, baby.”
“Aye, aye, Cap’n.”
He laughs as I widen my thighs, then explores with his thumb while I kiss him, sliding it so easily into me that I know I must already be swollen and slippery.
We kiss for a long time while I rock my hips in time with the movements of his thumb. I think I could come like this… but just as I feel the glimmer of an orgasm in the distance, he removes his hands from beneath my skirt.
“Can I loosen this?” he asks, sliding his hands up the boned bodice.
“There are ties at the back…”
He hesitates. “Are you sure about this? Just tell me if you want me to stop at any point.”
