Page 8 of The Mysterious Billionaire
“Nothing wrong with a woman asking her man to pleasure her.”
She holds my gaze, her lips curving up. Something shifts between us. I feel like a kid waiting for Santa on Christmas Eve. My heart is racing, and my stomach flips as she trails her gaze lazily down me, taking in every part of me, before returning it to mine. Anticipation sparkles in the air like glitter. I haven’t felt like this for years. I thought only young people got carried away with lust.
God, I’m getting old.
“I’m not a pillow princess,” she says. “And I’m not a starfish. I’m just… easily intimidated. And my ex wasn’t keen on the girl taking charge.”
“So what did he want?”
“Unfortunately, I have no idea.”
“How terrible,” I murmur, studying her mouth. She has an attractive Cupid’s bow, and her lips naturally curve up, as if she’s permanently thinking about something naughty.
“You sound devastated,” she says.
“I’m gutted you don’t have a boyfriend.”
“But that means I’m lonely.” She bats her eyelashes.
“Well, we can’t have that.” I smile.
She gives a short laugh, then tips her head to the side. “Do you… really find me attractive?”
I let my gaze brush down her. A slender neck, her bare throat unadorned by jewelry. Pale shoulders, and the beautiful swell of her breasts above the pink bodice. The dip of her waist, and the curve of her hips. The split in the skirt revealing pale thighs and shapely calves. Slender feet in her high-heeled sandals, and oh my, sexy pink toenails to match her outfit.
I bring my gaze back up to hers. “I can safely say you’re the most gorgeous woman at the ball tonight.”
“Cinderella,” she says, and laughs.
“I’m happy to be your prince, if the shoe fits.”
“It does,” she says, a little breathlessly. “Very much.”
Her violet eyes are entrancing, casting a spell over me. Desire rises inside me, its furious roar drowning out everything else around me. A casual observer might comment that my lust could be connected to not having had sex for seven months, and no doubt the whisky has something to do with it, too. But I wouldn’t be feeling this way if just any girl were sitting in front of me. Cupcake is… exceptional.
I have to make sure that, like Cinderella, she doesn’t escape the ball without me finding out her identity. I need to see this girl again.
“Come on,” I urge. “Tell me your name.”
She laughs and pushes my arm. “No. We agreed, no names.”
“Youagreed. I just went along with it.”
“This wouldn’t be the same if we knew who each other was,” she insists. “It’s the anonymity that’s so exciting. I can be somebody else for once.”
“I bet I’d like the real you more.”
“We’ll never know, will we?”
Disappointment makes me frown. “Aw, come on. It’s not often you get a connection like this. I like you. And I’ll probably have to go soon, and I don’t want to come looking for you and find you’ve—”
“—turned into a pumpkin?”
“I think it was the carriage that turned into a pumpkin, but yeah, disappeared, before I’ve had a chance to kiss you.”
“Kiss me?” She looks amused. “Is that all you want to do to me?” Her eyes dare me to say more.
I love that she’s so flirty, and I lower my head so my lips are just millimeters from her ear. I want to move her hair back and kiss the sensitive skin there. But I remind myself I’m in public, and at any moment Aurelia could appear with the mayor and a gaggle of press photographers in tow.
