The Billionaire's Masquerade (Anonymous/Group Sex‪)‬

When Marie Delong, personal assistant to famed billionaire Hunter Ramsley, finds herself in possession of a spare invitation to one of his secretive masquerades, she can't resist donning a gown and mask to find out the truth. Once through the door, she finds out Hunter's secret: he hosts anonymous sex parties! And who else should take a shine to her but the host himself?

EXPLICIT: This 8,000 word story contains an anonymous g******g, exhibitionism, voyeurism, oral sex and a woman just starting to find out exactly how she wants it, and who she wants it from.

EXCERPT:
"How are our weekend plans coming?"
Marie jumped in the act of signing off on the security detail, her pen skittering across the paper. Slowly, she looked up through her eyelashes nervously. "Everything looks on track, sir."
Mr. Ramsley leaned over her desk, palms planted firmly on the smooth glass edge. His dark hair was mussed and his tie was loose, but otherwise he was perfectly put together, as distant as the moon. She hadn't heard him come in, but that wasn't new. He was quiet as a cat, and seemed to get a childlike joy from sneaking up on her.
Gently, he reached over, fingers ghosting over her knuckles for a moment before he pulled the papers away from her. He stared down at it with icy blue eyes, finger running over the lines of text. Then he looked up and smiled. "Perfect, as always. I don't know what I'd do without you."
As always, her heart—and lower body parts—throbbed at the sight of that smile. Quickly, she put her feelings away and popped on a professional smile. Keep cool, keep it together, girl. Mr. Ramsley could have literally anyone he wanted; the last thing he needed was a personal assistant panting over him like everyone else did. "Thank you, sir."
There came a beat when the world held its breath. Slowly, his smile softened, became just a touch more professional. "Are the invitations ready? I wanted to send them out today."
Marie couldn't breathe through the sudden surge of want. It seemed like the most ridiculous, impossible thing in the world. She was an employee; Mr. Ramsley didn't canoodle with employees, everyone knew that. Just wanting him was a terrible idea. But she couldn't help herself, wanted to just curl up and beg for even a sliver of his time. How was it that women like Mrs. Daniels got two hours and her years of service only got her a smile?
"Marie?" he asked, voice gentle as he interrupted her meltdown. "Are you alright?"
"I'm—I'm fine, sir. Just woolgathering. " Stiffly, she reached for the stack at the corner of her desk, fumbling a little as she pressed them into his outstretched hand. "Here they are. Two hundred, with nine spare. One had a misprint."
He accepted the stack absently, a worried line forming between his brows. "Are you certain you're well?" The invitations fanned out as he dropped them to her desk, reaching over to cup her cheek with a cool palm. "You're burning up, peach. Are you coming down with something?"