Page 62 of Meet Mason, the Billionaire

His hands went to encircle my waist, but I broke away from him with a playful grin on my lips. I put my hands on his chest and slowly, but firmly pushed him toward the cabin.

“What are you doing?”

“Pushing you out until I get dressed up. You’re not the only one who can come up with surprises.”

He relented, allowing me to push him back to his seat. “Now, no peeking.”

“No promises.”

Despite what he said, Mason didn’t peek while I got myself prepared for him. Some of the things inside the bags utterly scandalized me. I almost pushed them to the back, but then, I did something that only Mason’s adoration of me could have prompted. I chose to pick the things that scandalized me the most.

When I stepped out of the alcove, his eyes bugged out of his face. I wore an elegant black bunny mask, sort of like what Zorro would wear but with the addition of shiny bunny ears. The mask matched the slick look black dress I wore, which featured strategic cutouts over my nipples, allowing the pink nubs to peek through.

The dress looked like a regular miniskirt in front, albeit a skin-tight one, but the back consisted of a series of straps, providing view—not to mention access—of all I had to offer. Elbow-length gloves and knee-high boots completed the ensemble—well, most of it.

I held a small white paper bag in my mouth by the corrugated straps. Mason laughed with joy as I put my hands up and bunny hopped up to him.

I dropped to all fours and crawled the last few feet. I locked gazes with him, staring deep into his eyes. What I saw in them made me shiver. Yes, there was desire—even lust—but that soft gooey center of affection remained, even then in that moment.

“Ooof!” He cried out when I dropped the surprisingly heavy bag in his crotch. Mason reached inside and pulled out a fluffy black bunny tail and a small bottle of lube. The tail had a teardrop-shaped chrome plug, and I could see the wheels turning in his head already.

“Your bunny needs a tail,” I purred. I turned around and faced away from him, exposing my everything to his gaze.

“You’re so fucking sexy,” he said in a breathy growl. He buried his face between my cheeks, kissing and nibbling between the straps.

Soon the lubed chrome tip pressed my dark star.

“Bend over and grab your ankles.”

“Bend over in this tight dress?”

His sharp spank on my ass reminded me of my place.

“Sorry, Sir,” I purred as a throb went through my clit. “Maybe you should do that again, just to make sure I learned my lesson?”

He smacked me a good measure harder the second time—I couldn’t complain as I’d literally asked for it—and I did my best to bend over in the tight second-skin dress. I found that I could actually manage the feat, with the caveat of the skirt portion winding up around my waist. Not that it was covering much anyway, but having so much of my body covered, and yet the tabooest parts exposed, added to the whole experience.

I read somewhere that all artists are to one degree or another exhibitionist. I suppose that applied to me. I know I loved putting on a show for him.

He gently worked the tail plug-in. When it nestled inside of me, I realized that I would have to be careful lest I let it slip out. That became even harder to manage when I felt him kiss my pussy lips.

I was leaking cream down my thighs at that point. Mason greedily suckled every drop of my juices from my labia. Gradually, he eased me into a sitting position—which drove the plug-in a bit more snugly, an amazing feeling that had me tingling head to toe—and buried his face in my kitty.

Mason ate me out like a fucking porn star. He gave full attention to all parts of my pussy lips, inside and out, before he even got near the clit.

“Your pussy is delicious, Megan,” he gasped at one point, his face glistening with my juices and his own sweat. Then he dove back in. His fingers worked their way inside of my slick pink tunnel while his lips parsed around my clitoris at last. My scream split the air, and I was rather glad of the loud turbine engines drowning out my orgasms.

Because there were a lot.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Mason

I gloried in the slick feel of Megan’s pussy lips enveloping my face as I jammed my tongue deep inside of her. My fingers pinched her clitoral hood, making the little lady downstairs bulge out into purple, passionate preponderance.

I looked up to see her body twisting and writhing. The bunny mask had fallen off at some point during her thrashing about. I loved the sight of her body rearing up and down, the hard pink nubs of her nipples so tantalizingly exposed in the cutout dress.

I could count the number of times I’d bought lingerie or sex toys for a woman on one hand, and all of them involved Megan. She brought out something inside of me I hadn’t known existed. She made me feel like it was okay to express myself in ways other than being a hardass in the boardroom.

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