Page 93 of Wrong Room, Right Billionaire

His statement is confusing. Is he saying I’m his girlfriend in real life? He kisses me again instead of elaborating any further. And considering how entrancing this man’s kisses are, I forget about the labels and technicalities. For now, anyways.

We kiss until the orange in the sky fades to a dark indigo. We kiss until the air shifts from warm and wet to an almost chill. We kiss until the wisps of clouds fade into stars and moonlight, and the only sound comes from the crashing waves on the shore.

Morgan hooks his thumbs under the straps of my dress and tugs it down over my hips until it spills into a pile on the balcony floor around my feet. And that’s when I remember: we may be alone, but we are outside.

“God you’re beautiful,” he tells me as his hands run down over my curves, which are covered in nothing but a white lace panty and bra set.

“Do you think we should go inside?” I ask but Morgan seems unphased. Instead of answering the question, he drops to his knees in front of me, kissing my stomach, my hips, and everywhere in between.

“Why?” he asks.

“Because other people can probably see us,” I say.

“We are forty floors in the air, sweetheart. I don’t think anyone can see us,” he insists.

“Okay, but like…what about the people on the beach? What about the people in the rooms next to us?” I ask, squirming against his tongue on my hipbones. It both tickles and turns me on, and the contrast is excruciating.

“You need to forget about other people,” he tells me.

“Sorry, it’s just, it’s kind of hard when we are literally standing here out in the ohhh…” my words fade into a moan as his mouth covers my pussy. Despite the fact that there’s lace between his tongue and my skin, it doesn’t matter. It’s enough to make my knees shake and my hands clasp his shoulders.

Morgan chuckles against me. “Good girl,” he says. Then he tugs the fabric aside and starts licking the length of me, paying special attention to my clit. I moan again. “You think if I keep doing that you will forget about people watching?” he asks.

“I think if you keep doing that I will forget my own name,” I tell him, and Morgan growls before standing up and picking me up with him.

My first thought is, oh good, we’re going back inside.

Except that he doesn’t take me back inside. He lays me down on the lounge chair and crawls on top of me. I guess we are doing this. Here. On a balcony.

“Morgan,” I giggle as he kisses me again and then proceeds to pepper me with more kisses, leaving a constellation down my body until he reaches my pussy again.

“Yes?” he asks.

“Are you going to fuck me outside?” I ask.

“No,” he says, his mouth close enough to my pussy that I can feel the heat of his words against the expectant skin. “I am going to make love to you under the stars,” he says and my heart slams into my chest.

Because those words are my words. Words from my bucket list notebook. But before I can overthink it (or think about it at all), his mouth covers me again and his tongue gets to work teasing my clit until I am grinding against the lounge chair. My knees fall open and he uses another finger to hold my panties at bay, though I can tell he is getting frustrated with them.

Finally, he grabs them by the top seam and rips them down the center, exposing me completely, giving him full access to me and trashing a pair of panties in the process.

But again, I don’t have time to think before his tongue finds me again; the tip flicking mercilessly at my clit until a heat brighter and hotter than the deep orange sunset rises into my thighs and explodes into a mind-blowing orgasm. Mind-blowing enough that I do, in fact, forget where we are and even, for a moment, who I am.

I whimper out a contented sigh at the end of the orgasm and Morgan kisses me softly.

“That was amazing,” I tell him, my words lazy from recovery.

“Oh honey, we aren’t finished,” he says and I giggle.

“I was hoping you’d say that,” I say, and Morgan stares down at me for a moment before a slow smirk crosses his lips.

“You want to try something different?” he asks.

“Something different?” I echo.

With that, he stands and strips down. Then he picks me up, and I swear I will never get used to how easily he can do it. He turns around and lies down on his back with me straddling him.

“Oh,” I say with a smirk to match his. “You want me on top…”