The Millionaire's Masquerade (Erotic Romance Novella) (3 page)

Masked revelers laughed, danced, and drank. A few feet from her, a snow-white curtain fluttered open. She had to look twice. A woman on all fours writhed on a tabletop while being spanked by a half-naked man. By the contorted desire on both of their faces, they relished every minute. Meg's mouth formed a stunned
O
. The man behind the curtain caught her staring and beckoned to her with a crooked finger, but with a hard swallow and a quick shake of her head, Meg took several shaky steps back. She tried not to stare, really she did, but the sight both embarrassed and enthralled her. Ellory was right to keep her in the dark. If she'd told her it was some type of rich peoples' sex party, she might never have come.

She looped around the outskirts of the heaving dance floor in search of Aidan. If he'd taken such elaborate steps to get her here, why was he hiding? When she saw no sign of him, she waded deeper into the Christmas-themed room. Bodiless hands stroked and pawed her. The next person to touch her without permission was going to be on the receiving end of her fist.

An arm snaked around her waist. She curled her fingers and swung her fist backward, but before she made contact, a strong hand caught it and pinned it by her side. Fingers swept her hair behind her ear, and soft lips nuzzled her neck. Woodsy cologne cocooned her in a blanket of safety.

Aidan.
Relief poured through her veins and a small moan squeaked from her lips. She tried to turn around, but his arm held her firm.

"I'm glad you decided to come," he whispered, pushing up the ruffles of her skirt. He pressed against her butt and a pleasant thrill ran down her legs. To say he had an erection didn't come close to describing how hard he was.

"Me too, I think."

He laced his fingers between hers and led her to a curtained booth with white leather seats and a small drinks table. "Sit yourself down."

She perched on the edge of a chair, glad for the invitation because the nervous energy swamping her blood stream was about to make her run all the way home. A waiter appeared with two glasses and a magnum of champagne in an ice bucket. Would it seem strange if she picked up the bucket and poured the contents over her head? Not even that would be enough to cool her feverish skin, though. The waiter left with a bow and swished the curtains closed.

Not knowing what else to do, Meg shoved her hands beneath her thighs and shyly glanced at Aidan. His lips pursed and his brow creased. Was he wondering if this was a mistake? She hoped not. 

"So, Ms. Daniels, here we are."

"Yes." She cleared her throat. "I'm surprised. A party where people have sex. Openly. A sex party. It's not what I expected, not that I knew what to expect. I'm also surprised that you're here and that this is your thing. Not that there's anything wrong with this being your thing of course."

"It's not necessarily my
thing
, but I wouldn't say I'm adverse to it," he said in that sing-song voice of his. "My brothers organize these events for the very rich for an astronomical sum. Are you shocked?"

She chewed her bottom lip and heat crept up her face. Shocked? Was she? At first maybe, but the more she saw, the more she wanted, and the more she realized what was missing from her spinster-like existence. Meg leaned forward and licked her lips. "Would it shock
you
that I'm not? That it makes my heart beat a little faster?"

"Shock me? No. Make me want to rip your clothes off and fuck you over the table? Yes."

A sound somewhere in the
oh
family fell from her lips and every pore on her body prickled as if an electric current buzzed through the chair. She still half expected him to say it was a mistake and she should leave before she embarrassed herself anymore, but the red-hot heat in his eyes told her he meant business. Her gaze lingered on his gorgeous face and the more she stared the sexier he became. He was pure testosterone wrapped up in a designer tuxedo. And the way he watched her told her more than his words ever could. He desired her. Thought she was pretty damn sexy, and for now, his lust was enough.

"Do you have any idea what I do when I think about you?" he asked leaning forward.

"Tell me."

His eyes bore into hers with an intensity that sent her mind reeling. "I jerk off nice and slow thinking about your legs wrapped around my waist. About my face buried between your legs."

A surge of arousal shook her body. "I think I need a drink."

"I need you, Meghan. And more than anything, I need to taste you, need to hear you scream my name when you come on my mouth." His voice was thick and heavy with hunger. "You have no idea what you do to me."

"Oh, I think I do." She clutched the sides of the chair, trying to find balance in the fast-tilting world. Fantasies involving him filled her every waking minute, and her brain screamed
take me right now
. But, even though she would kill to have him, she bit her words back. Better to seem cool than desperate—at least for a little while.

Aidan stood, took a prowling step forward, and sat on the table ledge directly in front of her. He wedged his knee between hers, inching her legs apart. A hint of a smile curved his lips, and her tingling clit all but begged for his mouth's undivided attention. Her chest tightened, and with every rasping breath, her breasts plotted their escape from her corset.

He shifted a little closer. Would he kiss her now? Excitement inflated her lungs and she parted her lips. He placed his hands on her knees and slid them up her thighs, then stopped at the top of her stockings. His fingers were mere inches from her wet panties. She clamped her thighs together to ease the throbbing ache pressing down on her clit.

He smiled and lifted his hands away. "Still need a drink?"

She licked her parched lips and nodded.

He reached for the champagne and gave it a vigorous shake.

"What are you doing?" She cowered away. "It's going to explode."

Amusement flashed in Aidan's eyes, and when he popped the cork, he aimed the bubbling foam at Meg's breasts. She yelped and jumped away from the fizzy liquid, but she wasn't quick enough to stop the cold bubbles from gushing over her chest and flowing down her dress. Aidan curved his hands over her shoulders and drew her close. He lowered his head and sipped from her cleavage, and with a startled gasp, Meg fell back against the seat. He slid his hand around her waist and lapped at her flesh. Her nails scored the faux leather, and achy need mixed with daring pushed her chest forward.

"You're as delicious as I knew you'd be," he murmured. The rasp of his razor-like stubble sensitized her swollen breasts.

"W—why did it take you so long to do this?"

He trailed kisses along her collarbone up to the crook of her neck, his breath heated her skin, and Meg arched into him.

"I don't mix business with pleasure," he murmured against her throat. "Sex—a relationship—would've complicated things. But understand, the very second you walked into my office, I wanted you, and I've spent many an hour imagining this very moment."

Meg reached out and curled her clawed fingers over his thighs. She could do this. She could admit how she felt; how much she wanted him. "I want you, too. I've always wanted you, but you were so professional. If I thought there could've been anything more between us I'd have stripped naked in your office. I nearly did yesterday, but lost my nerve."

He lifted his lips and chuckled. "That could still happen. The night's young. But now we're going to make up for lost time, and I intend to make you scream my name from those bright red lips of yours."

"If you keep talking like that, my boobs are going to pop completely out of this excuse for a dress." She glanced down at her heaving breasts and decided she wouldn't look out of place on the cover of a bodice-ripping romance.

"And why would that be a problem?"

"I don't think I want the New York jet set getting an eye full of the girls."

He brushed his knuckles over her chest and up to her neck. "The only person who'll be seeing your 'girls' tonight is me."

His hands framed her face, holding her steady, and he bent his head, touching the tip of his tongue over the seam of her lips. This was it. The moment she'd spent twenty-four months fantasizing about, and she hoped she wouldn't pass out and destroy it.

He pressed his champagne-coated lips against hers. His mouth was cool but tender, soft but firm. She drank every bit of him in. The kiss sent bolts of white-hot lightening to every receptive part of her body. His mouth turned hungry. He knew how to kiss her. How to tease her. How to liquefy her bones.

Meg kicked off her shoes then wrapped her legs around the back of his thighs and pulled him closer. His breath came harsh and heavy, and his cock strained against the confines of his trousers. She raised her hand to caress him, but sudden shyness made her hesitate, and her cautious fingers curled inward. A frustrated moan sounded from her throat. Now was not the time to act like a Catholic schoolgirl. He wasn't her employer. He was a man who desired her. She tore her mouth away from his and drew in a shuddering breath to collect her thoughts. If she wanted him, it was time to show him.

He trailed his lips down her neck to her throbbing pulse and kissed his way along her collarbone. Losing herself to the moment, she flattened the palm of her hand over his crotch. A rough groan tumbled from Aidan's mouth. She unbuttoned his trousers and pulled the zipper down tooth by tooth.

She reached in. No underwear. Heaven. He was hard, thick, and ready. Everything she'd dreamed and more. She wrapped her hand around his width and massaged her thumb over the tip until a bead of moisture seeped from his slit.

"You need to stop," he rasped

"What if I can't?

"You're trouble."

"Who, me?" she asked and laughed.

He removed her hand, slid off his jacket, and undid his bow tie. "I see I'm going to have to take control and remind you who's boss."

Meg tilted her head with a smile and eyed his erection. "I think you're forgetting. I'm my own boss now, and since you were too much of a wuss to make a move on me for two years, I think I should be the one who takes control." She removed her mask. "Take your mask off. I want to see your face, so I know this is happening."

Aidan reached up, pulled the mask off, threw it on the table, and came towards her. The thrill of seeing his face and the hunger in his gaze intensified the throb between her legs.

"If this is a battle of wills," he said, "I'm going to very much enjoy winning."

"Is that so? Because from where I'm sitting, it looks like I'm the one who's winning."

"And how do you figure that?" he asked.

"Oh, a few things
spring
to mind."

Aidan growled, and Meg couldn't believe she was so blatant. How could a swanky hairstyle and an elaborate dress boost her confidence this much?

He towered over her, and the hard glint in his eyes told her that no one was in control except him. "We can do this the easy way with you surrendering to me, or we can do it the hard way, and I can punish you for not behaving." He grinned wickedly. "I hope you choose the punishment because I'm going to enjoy spanking your luscious bottom."

Meg's clit fluttered and her ass cheeks tightened. She'd never imagined being spanked or playing rough before. The images flashing in her head told her that maybe it was something she would more than enjoy. But no matter what her body wanted, her mind wouldn't allow her to give up control so easily. If he wanted her, he would have to work for it. She raised her chin and stared him down.

"I see," Aidan said. "We're going to do this the hard way. Excellent." He leaned over and nipped from her earlobe to the curve of her neck.

"Are you one of those Doms or something?" she whispered. "Because if you are, I'd be the world's worst submissive."

"Naw. I'm not in the lifestyle, but I like power play, and I like to be in control. Always. But know everything stops when you've had enough."

"What if I don't want you to stop?"

Aidan's pupils dilated and his hand curved around the back of her neck possessively. "That's what I like to hear."

Meg angled her head back until their lips hovered a breath apart. "What now?"

He trailed his fingertips over her chest and scooped her breasts from her dress until her nipples peeked over the top of her bodice. "Now we begin."

"I didn't say yes."

Aidan sat beside her, resting his hand on her thigh, and brushed it up and down her legs. "Your body did that for you."

If he moved his hand a few inches higher, she would be lost to him, and he could do whatever he wanted. Hell, he could do whatever he wanted now. She closed her eyes and sank against the seat.

He continued to trace his hand up her thighs, and her legs parted involuntarily. With her eyes still closed, Aidan smoothed his hands over her inner thighs. She spread her legs further apart, opening herself up in an unspoken invitation. He curled his fingers beneath the wet fabric of her shorts, and ripped them off, throwing the scraps of fabric to the floor. She lifted her hips to encourage him to delve inside.

Aidan knelt in front of Meg. It took all of his willpower not to tear her clothes off and throw her onto the table, but he wanted to make this night—the first night of the rest of their lives together—last. When he made love to her he would take as much time as needed to make her come over and over again, and as tough as it would be, he'd hold back his own pleasure until she was satisfied. He parted her labia—her scent as sweet as honey—and lightly blew on her wet folds until she whimpered.

"Don't tease me, Aidan. Please. I need..."

In an attempt to hide his emotions, he swallowed hard. He didn't want her to know how near the knife's edge he was. "I'll decide what you need and when you need it, Ms. Daniels."

"I think I hate you." She moaned and writhed on the now slippery seat, thrusting her pelvis towards him.

He inhaled her exhilarating scent and dipped his head. Running his tongue around her entrance, he teased her, before clamping his lips over her swollen clit. Her body arched into his, and the undulations of her hips became frenzied. His cock demanded he take her now, but he didn't give in. He wouldn't. He traced his tongue over the contours of her lips and broke away. "Don't come, Meghan, not yet."