Page 26 of Meet Mason, the Billionaire

I went to the door and opened it. Mason’s eyes went wide when he saw me in my towel. His eyes carefully went up and down my legs before returning to my face. He looked as if he had just come straight from the office, wearing a white long-sleeved shirt and charcoal slacks.

“Hey, am I early?”

“No, you’re right on time. I’m the one who’s, um, off.”

I stepped back and allowed him inside. “Um, well, so this is my place. It’s not much, but the bathrooms’ over there, living room there, bedroom there, and you’re standing in the kitchen.”

“Nice place,” he said. “Cozy.”

I couldn’t tell if he was sincere or just being nice. I figured it didn’t matter either way.

“So, obviously I haven’t had time to get dressed. If you’ll excuse me a minute—”

He snagged my wrist as I went to leave. I cocked an eyebrow.

“What are you doing?” I asked with a laugh. “I need to get dressed.”

He held firm to my wrist.

“Why?” he asked softly.

My heart seemed to stop beating for a few seconds, and then beat really hard out of nowhere.

“Um,” I said intelligently.

He reeled me into him, pulling me into his embrace. I felt keenly vulnerable standing there in just a towel, with nothing to protect me underneath. Mason clapped a hand to the small of my back and lifted me up onto my tiptoes. He kissed me hard, his tongue probing insistently inside of my mouth.

We broke apart, the air filled with my heavy pants. He reached up and loosened his tie, pulling it off completely.

I smiled, and moved my hands up to undo the buttons on his shirt. I got three of them done when he suddenly looped the blue silk tie around my wrists.

“What are you doing?” I asked with a half anxious, half playful giggle.

“Did you forget our bet?”

I gasped when I remembered our wager at the putting range. Ten spanks, that had been the bet.

“I don’t see what tying me up has to do with it,” I said, though I made no move to pull away from him. No move whatsoever. I watched as he nimbly threaded the tie between my hands and cinched the knot. It was snug, but not painfully tight.

“I have to make sure you don’t try to run away,” he teased.

I laughed and put my bound hands over his head and clasped them behind his neck. I pulled him into my kiss, this time as the aggressor. He gave as good as he got, biting my lower lip just a bit until I submitted to his kiss.

He pulled my hands off his neck and spun me around with an insistent twist. I gasped as I faced away from him, my heart hammering in my chest.

“Put your hands on the counter.”

“I love it when you take charge—oh!”

I cried out when his hand lifted the towel from behind, exposing my bottom to his gaze.

“I know.” His bare hand slapped against my ass. It was a firm slap, but not painful. Just enough of an impact to be impossible to ignore.

“There’s one,” he whispered in my ear. His hand slid between my cheeks and teased my pussy from behind. I whimpered, feeling myself open up for him. The scent of my arousal filled the air, and his fingers grew sticky as they played with my swollen labia.

Suddenly he pulled his hand away and swatted me again, a bit harder this time.

“Two,” he said. His big hand kneaded my buttocks, pulled the cheeks apart and exposed me to him. I stared at my bound hands and moaned softly.

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