The Millionaire's Masquerade (Erotic Romance Novella) (5 page)

"It'll look even better when you take your clothes off." Taking her hand, he led her to his desk where he sat down on his chair, and positioned her in front of him. He skimmed his fingertips up the back of her thighs and tapped them against her bare backside.

Meg smiled and shimmied backward until she sat at the edge of the desk and began to toe her shoes off.

"Keep your shoes and stockings on. Everything else off."

With a visible swallow, Meg stood and spun around. "You'll have to untie my dress."

Aidan reached up and undid the top bow, pulling the silk ribbons with purposeful slowness from the eyelets and exposing her back. His cock jerked, and he longed to take her, to forget about everything else he had planned. But that would be a waste. They'd never get a first night again.

When he untied the bodice, he let each ribbon drift to the floor, noting where they fell because they would come in useful later on. Meg turned to face him, then pushed the dress off her shoulders and down to her feet, revealing her perfection to him.

"Superb." Aidan sighed and traced his fingertips over her goosebumped flesh. "I want you to lean over the desk, and place your palms flat."

She took a shaky breath and did as he asked, spreading her legs ever so slightly as she laid her cheek on the table. Her pussy glistened in the low light. She was more than ready for him. Aidan curved his hands around her backside and ran his thumbs over her cheeks and over her drenched opening. The scent of her excitement assaulted his senses, making him near animalistic with want. He rolled his chair closer and used his tongue and mouth to massage her soft cheeks, biting and sucking, every so often moving his tongue to her pussy and sliding it inside.

He moved away from her and tore off his clothes, discarding them on the floor. Meg moaned and pushed herself from the desk. "Don't move," he said and eased her back down, the soft caress of his hand belying his fevered arousal.

"You're driving me insane."

"I haven't even begun." He slid the wet tip of his cock between her folds and ground against her. The agony of resisting his release was almost too much, but if he let his cock take control, it'd be over before he even got started.

Meg wanted him, craved him. Never in her life had any man paid so much attention to her backside. She loved it. His strong hands belonged on her skin, and the way his lips kissed and drew her in was a pleasure no one else could repeat. He only had to say the word, and she was his. One caress alone was enough to send her spiraling out of control, but she didn't want this to end, not ever. She tightened her thighs and resisted her swelling orgasm.

Smack!

"Did you think I'd forgotten about spanking you?"

Her eyes flew open in surprise. It didn't hurt, but she hadn't expected it. She writhed and moaned, and her already sensitive skin stung. Being spanked wasn't something she'd ever tried, and by the reaction of her body, it was something she hoped to experience again and again.

"You liked that?" he asked. His hand massaged her heated skin. She nodded and lost herself in his soothing touch.

Smack!
 

Without warning, he brought his hand down on her ass again. Hard. She lurched forward and hissed. The strike radiated burning pleasure outwards from her core and back again.

"Let me come," she cried.

He stroked the short edges of his nails over her wetness before he pumped two fingers inside. Her knees buckled, and her inner muscles clamped around him, drawing him in with no intention of letting go. For so long this was what she'd wanted, what she'd needed.

"So wet for me," he said with a rough-edged sigh.

When he inched out, Meg could only whimper. Rapid-fire smacks from his cupped hand rained down where her thighs met her backside, leaving a trace of discomfort. Sweat beaded on her burning skin, her body quaked, and arousal dripped between her legs.

"Please," she begged "I'll do anything."

He splayed two fingers on either side of her clit and squeezed his knuckles together until all sensibilities left Meg's mind, and the only thing she was aware of was the sensations between her legs and the rush of blood to her head. Her inner muscles contracted, needing something to grip. He delved deep, scissoring, fucking, twisting. Her walls clenched around him. Her back bowed, and her nipples abraded the smooth wooden table. All of her fantasies were coming true.

"You're so tight, sweetheart."

Her orgasm swept over her, obliterating everything. She clawed at the desk and bucked uncontrollably against Aidan's fingers. Her chest heaved and her legs wobbled, unable to withstand the tremors racking her body. He stroked her until he'd taken everything she could give. The intensity of the orgasm weakened her legs, and she slumped against the desk. Being with him confirmed what she already knew—she loved him. And before she did something stupid like tell him, she took a shaky breath and lay there, listening to the frantic beat of her heart.

"That…that was…." Her voice cracked and her words trailed off. "I think I'm in paradise."

"It was something else, wasn't it?" Aidan helped her turn around until she sat on his desk facing him. "Do you know how many times I've thought about doing that to you? Taking you over my desk?"

"You should've done something about it sooner," she said, kicking off her stilettos and massaging his cock between her stocking-covered feet. "Look at all the time we've lost, and all the fun we could have had."

"It would never have worked."

"Why not? Is there a law that says the boss and his assistant can't date?"

"Like I said before, it would've been too complicated. Apart from being unprofessional, can you imagine the water cooler gossip? If I could've fired you, I would have."

Meg gave a soft laugh. "If I'd known, I would've quit." She continued to move her feet up and down, curling her toes around his width. He gripped the armrests of his chair.

"If you don't stop, I'm going to explode."

"Isn't that the whole idea?" she asked in what she hoped was a seductive tone.

"Tonight is supposed to be about you and making you pay for two years of torture."

"Me, pay?" She removed her feet and slid from the desk until she was on her knees in front of him. "I think it's your fault, and I think you should be the one who pays." She swiped her tongue over the tip of his erection. "This is another one of my fantasies."

"And mine." He caught her hair and tugged. "But there's one thing missing."

"There is?"

He reached down to the floor and lifted one of the discarded ribbons from her dress. "This."

She arched an eyebrow. "You're going to tie me up?"

"Aye, that I am."

Meg laughed. "Do what you will, Master."

Aidan's lips twitched. "Master? That can certainly be arranged."

Meg turned around and shivered as Aidan tied the gold ribbon around her wrist. Tying it tight, he pulled her ass to him. He kissed and licked her skin, and she all but sank to the floor in a puddle of goo.

"Take my balls in your mouth."

Shuffling around, Meg licked her lips and took the silky sacs into her mouth one at a time, enjoying how it affected Aidan. How his breathing quickened when she hollowed her cheeks and sucked hard.

"Now suck my cock."

She licked to the tip of his shaft, around the crown, and tapped his slit with her tongue, encouraging more pre-cum to drip from the tip. Aidan grabbed her hair and guided her head down until she took his full length. Her skin tingled, and she swore she was going to come again without any assistance. She sucked him into her mouth again. He grasped her breasts, kneading them and flicking her rock-hard nipples. He pulled himself from her mouth, pushed her breasts together, and pressed his cock between the mounds of flesh. Aidan fucked her breasts, and every time his cock popped out of her cleavage, her tongue darted down to lick the tip. A growl sounded from his throat, and he lifted her to his lap until she straddled him. He reached into his desk drawer, produced a condom, opened it, and slid the latex on while holding Meg in place. His hands grasped her waist, and she impaled herself, both of them crying out as her walls closed around him, holding him, possessing him, loving him.

Their bodies thrashed in unison, in a fast, reckless rhythm. Meg bore down, and Aidan's body trembled, his cock swelled inside her, and she felt every twitch, every movement. His neck muscles corded and his grasp on her waist tightened as he pounded into her over and over again. She struggled to free her hands. She wanted to pull his hair, scratch his back, hold him to her. Anything. Everything.

Raw need consumed her and a hoarse breath tore from her throat. Aidan's back bowed, his fingers clawed her waist, and he roared out his climax. Their bodies pulsed and spasmed together, until, breathless, Aidan collapsed against the back of the chair, pulling Meg with him.

"Oh. My. God." she said her voice barely audible. "Ommyfuckingod."

Aidan stroked her hair, his breathing hard and uneven. And for a few timeless moments, she clung to his sweat-slicked body. Somewhere in the back of her sluggish brain, she knew this wasn't real, but for now, she wanted to relish every smell, taste, and touch. He traced feathery fingers down her arms and untied the ribbon, massaging her tender wrists.

"I'm looking forward to exploring your dominant side," she said.

"We both are." He glanced at his watch. "It's after three. Would you like me to take you home?"

Her stomach sank to her toes, her mind screamed no, but her tired and pleasure-sore body said yes. "Oh, okay."

He tilted her chin up. "I have a flight to Belfast tomorrow then a three-hour drive to Donegal, and I haven't even packed. I'll give you a call next week, so I will."

Next week? She wanted to see him tomorrow, and the next day, and the next day, and the next. "You would think I'd remember since I was the one who'd booked it," she said with a sigh.

She removed herself from his lap and couldn't help but feel desolate at the thought of not seeing him every day. Stepping into her dress, she turned away from him, not wanting him to see the tears threatening to fall. She knew she was behaving like a drama queen. This might not be anything more than an itch he had to scratch. It wasn't like she was expecting a proposal or anything.

"Ready?"

"Sure," she said, with a smile she didn't feel.

She gave his desk a longing look. If nothing else came from tonight, she'd always have her memories. Time would mend her heart.

Muffled car horns and people calling "Merry Christmas" on the street outside woke her earlier than she wanted, and even though she was alone, the excitement that always accompanied the holiday buzzed around inside her.

Christmas Eve had come and gone in a blur of unpacking boxes. No amount of praying to God, the Universe, or Buddha made Aidan call, text, or email. She'd spent an hour on the phone with Ellory reliving the tamer parts of the evening, leaving out the bit where he'd fucked her over his desk. Her mom called and asked her to come home for Christmas dinner, but Meg explained she didn't feel like a two hour drive when it was snowing, plus she wanted to spend the day painting and planning the layout of her store.

She fixed herself breakfast and sat down to organize her day, but she couldn't concentrate and imagined Aidan was somewhere in Donegal eating turkey and drinking pints of Guinness with his overly large family. She wondered what it would be like to have hordes of family taking over her house on Christmas day.

Her phone beeped with a text. It was from Aidan.

Have you been naughty or nice?

Very naughty
, she texted back.

What did Santa bring?

Nothing but four walls that need painting.

Are you sure?

Meg glanced around her apartment. Maybe he'd had Ellory hide something when she was here, but she didn't see anything that looked like something Santa would bring.

Well?
he asked.

I think so.

Come downstairs.

Her heart slammed her rib cage and she took the stairs two at a time down to her shop. A twinkling and tinseled Christmas tree stood by the door with bundles of presents underneath it, and a table set for two sat in the middle of the otherwise empty store. Meg clasped her hands to her mouth and searched her pocket for her phone.

Where are you?

"Right behind you," Aidan said.

She spun around. "How? You should be in Ireland spoiling your nephews and nieces."

"There'll be plenty of other Christmases spent with my family, that's for certain, but I wanted to spend this one with my fiancée."

"F-fiancée?"

Aidan dropped to one knee and pulled out a blue velvet box, which he opened to show a white-gold princess-cut solitaire. "Meghan Daniels, will you marry me?

Meg fell to her knees in front of Aidan and with shaking hands took the ring. Never in her wildest dreams did she ever allow herself to picture this moment.

"Yes. Oh my God, yes." Tears streamed down Meg's face, and she didn't attempt to stop them. Not this time.

"I fell in love with you when I first saw you," he said. "What we shared the night of the masquerade ball made me love you even more."

"I love you and have loved and wanted you from the moment I saw you, too."

Twelve months later...

Christmas day in the Forrester house was nothing like Meg had ever experienced. Twenty adults stood around an over-packed kitchen, and several sugar-high kids ran around the house screeching and laughing. Meg had never felt so content. Everything in her life was perfect.

She rubbed her stomach and her husband clinked a spoon against a glass, trying to get the very merry adults to pay attention. "If everyone can raise their glasses to my lovely wife and, in six months, our son or daughter."

Everyone in the kitchen erupted at once.

"I knew you were expecting," said Erin, Aidan's older sister, who juggled a squirming toddler and a fork full of green beans.