Page 83 of Mistletoe and the Billionaire Boss

“He did mention you liked them.” I glance down as Zelda follows us into the room and stands there with a wagging tail. “Go and lie down, good girl,” I tell her, and she goes over to her bed and flops in it obediently.

“I thought you were talking to me,” Missie teases. She trails her fingers down my neck, over my collarbone, and down to my nipples. Then she tweaks them, only lightly, but enough to send an uncomfortable zap through me.

“Ow!” I take her wrists and pin them above her head. “You’re definitely on the naughty list.”

She laughs, a high female giggle, and it’s the most beautiful sound, as alien to this house as the cleansing lotion and tampons and lip gloss I know she’ll leave in the bathroom, the diet soda and low-fat cheese she’ll insist on keeping in the fridge, the scent of her perfume I’ll be able to smell on my clothes. I’ve been on my own far too long.

When she first told me that she used to argue with her husband about not having sex often enough, I assumed it was Lee who was pressing her for more. My heart sank briefly at the thought that her libido might not be as high as mine, as it’s been a problem in the past.

Having a high sex drive sounds great, but it can be a curse. It can cause all sorts of problems in a relationship if your partner is happy with once a week, or even less than that. I’ve yet to be with a girl who’s happy with having sex as often as I am. It always starts off well, then gradually tapers off. There’s nothing worse than lying there at night staring up at the ceiling, trying to will your hard-on to go down once your partner has rolled over, making it clear they’re not interested. I’d never press a girl to have sex with me, and I’ve never blamed someone else for not having a high sex drive, but I’d rather be alone than face that constant rejection. I guess Tinder is an answer, but I’m not a fan of one-night stands, and much prefer a long-term relationship.

But Missie’s comment,I was the one who wanted it more, fills me with hope that it’s not going to happen this time.

I crush my lips to hers, and she moans and pushes up her hips against mine. Releasing her wrists, I leave her mouth and begin to kiss down her neck. I’ve left off the main lights, as the fairy lights are more than enough to see by. This time, when I pull the straps of her teddy down her arms, she doesn’t complain but slides her arms out, then watches as I peel the triangular cups down over her breasts.

“Jesus,” I mumble as the lacy fabric reveals her plump, light-brown nipples, “you’re perfect.”

She sighs as I kiss her breasts, then moans when I trace the tip of my tongue around a nipple. I do it until the soft skin tightens to a bead, at which point I transfer to the other one. When they’re both puckered and hard, I cover one with my mouth and suck.

“Oh God…” She sinks her hands into my hair and arches her back. Relieved that she doesn’t mind her breasts being touched, because not all girls are into it, I kiss them for a while, until she’s groaning and writhing beneath me, and only then do I give in and pull the teddy down over her hips and legs before tossing it away.

I move between her legs and kiss down over her belly.

“Don’t kiss my stretch marks,” she complains as I linger there.

“They’re practically invisible.”

“Iknow they’re there.”

“They’re beautiful.”

“Bullshit. Don’t you want some tight young virgin with a concave stomach?”

Exasperated, I lift up and glare at her. “Why would I want a virgin?”

“I thought men liked girls to be young and innocent.”

“Well, I don’t. I have no interest in teaching someone how to have sex. I want a girl who knows what she’s doing.”

Her brows draw together. “I know where everything goes, if that’s what you mean.”

“That’s a start.”

“But I’m really not that experienced, if you’re looking for something fancy.”

“I’m not. I just want you, Missie.” I kiss her hip, then down to her mound. Wow, her skin here is silky-smooth, and I’m now so hard it’s almost painful. I’m not going to give in yet, though. I want her to come first. It is her birthday, after all.

Lowering down, I push her thighs wide, smiling as she covers her face with her hands. Then I part her with my fingers and just study her for a moment.

“Jesus,” she says after about ten seconds. “What are you doing?”

“Admiring the view.”

“Oh my God.”

“You smell amazing.”

“Oh. My. God. Kill me now.”

---