Page 85 of Pucking Billionaire

To let the issue die, I fake sleep, which isn’t hard, as “Comfortably Numb” is playing in my ears.

Suddenly, I have a great idea.

Genius level, I’m sure.

Maybe I should write it down?

No. It’s so good I’ll remember it later, for sure.

It has to do with books, which are on my mind for some unknown reason. A novel idea, to be precise. A retelling of Pinocchio, but instead of his nose growing, it will be his cock. And not when he’s lying, but when he?—

No, wait. How old is Pinocchio? Better make him a consenting adult.

Yeah. But hold on. I’ve been having trouble with excessive erections as of late, and now I’m writing about a guy with the same issue. Is this idea too on the nose… or cock?

Maybe I should make this Pinocchio female?

But what part of her would grow? Her clit? And under what circumstances?

The car stops.

“Mason?” Sophia whispers.

I pretend to wake up, and we board the ship—where, despite what Sophia says, I’m convinced that everyone knows I’m stoned.

Huh. Stoned. That could easily be the term for a hard-on, which I have at the moment, thanks to Sophia’s proximity.

Maybe I’m Pinocchio? Or Pinocchia? No, wait, I’m not a girl. And it’s definitely my cock that’s growing.

“You know what I’m in the mood for?” Sophia asks.

I lean in and nibble her ear. “A hard fuck?”

Her pupils—the eye kind, not the student kind—dilate. “I was going to say visiting the all-you-can-eat buffet,” she says huskily. “But… I like your idea a lot better.”

I press the elevator button for the suite deck. “Luckily for me, I’ll still get something delicious to eat.”

Her reply is a kiss that lasts until we’re in the suite.

“Hey,” she says breathlessly. “How did we get here without unlocking our lips?”

I stare at her and ponder the same mystery. “I have no idea. Maybe some sexy crab-walking was involved?”

She snorts. “Nothing about crabs is sexy.”

My nostrils flare. “The Russian equivalent of doggy style is crayfish.”

“Not the same crustaceans.” She starts to strip. “I do like where your mind is at, though.”

As soon as her smooth skin is exposed, I cover it with kisses—that is, until she takes her shoes off.

Dropping to my knees, I give her a foot rub just the way she likes, then nibble on her toes until her breathing turns shallow and her pussy glistens too invitingly for me to ignore.

“The buffet is open for business,” I mutter, grabbing her hips.

Her skin reddens all over.

Leaning in, I taste her as I’ve wanted to do all day and find that somehow, unbelievably, she’s even sweeter and silkier than I recall.

---