A Jade's Trick (Lilly Black's Jaded Series Book 1) (55 page)

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Authors: Lilly Black

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Erotica, #Bdsm

BOOK: A Jade's Trick (Lilly Black's Jaded Series Book 1)
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October 11

 

Friday night, we're flying back to home to San Diego, and as I sit in the cockpit watching Cain bring us down for another safe, uneventful landing, I start wishing he was the only pilot.  I wouldn't dare try anything while the plane was moving because I know how seriously he takes flying, but now that we're on the ground, all I can think about is straddling him in that captain's chair.

Just after the plane comes to a stop, I slip out of my seatbelt and whisper my craving in his ear.  He pulls the headset microphone to his mouth, and I hear him telling the pilots and the ground crew that he will be putting the plane in the hangar tonight by himself.  After the pilots and Alicia disembark and the stairs are wheeled away, I feel a little embarrassed that the whole crew probably knows what Cain and I are planning to do, but I guess if I can deal with his chauffeur dressing me in the dungeon, I can deal with anything.

As the plane sits waiting for the hangar doors to open, I leave the flight deck so I can pilfer Alicia's area for something to complete the role I want to play, and just outside the door I notice a pilot's hat hanging on a hook. Calling his name, I toss the hat to Cain with a wink, and when he looks back at me, amused, I crinkle my nose and prance away.

In a narrow closet, I find a freshly dry-cleaned, grey pencil skirt and matching, button down blouse, and as Cain slowly steers the plane into the hangar, I sit in the jump seat to change.  When the plane comes to a stop, I return to the cockpit as the hangar doors close, making the interior of the plane dark except for the small, colored dashboard lights giving the impression of a night flight.

 

 

 

We ended up staying in the plane for hours, eventually drifting off to sleep in the bedroom.  When we wake, I look out the small portal by the bed and see though the high windows of the hangar that it's still dark outside.  Cain is already up and ready to go home.

"How are we going to get out of here?" I ask since the airstairs were wheeled away. He just gives me a mischievous look, and after I get dressed, I come out of the bedroom to find that he has inflated the emergency exit slide.

"Seriously?"

"It'll be fun," he says.

"Do I throw the suitcase down first?"

"Leave it.  The crew can have the luggage sent over when they fix what I've done here."

"After what we did in the cockpit, it probably wouldn't be a bad idea for you to have them recalibrate the instruments."  He laughs, and sitting between his legs, we slide out of the plane.  It is fun.

Outside the hangar, Cain leads me to the Maserati parked on the side of the building, which he tells me Lucy left for us hours ago.  I guess taking a cab home at midnight was better than making her get out of bed at this hour to pick us up.  According to the car's dashboard, it's almost 4:00 am.

Holding hands on the short drive home, Cain and I can't get the silly grins off our faces.  We've been in a state of bliss all week, so shaken by the fear of losing each other that every touch and whisper has become precious, our connection deeper and more intimate.  I never thought love could be this way.

When we're finally home, the apartment looks amazing.  Though we still have to finish the designs, all of the reconstruction was done while we were away.  With the new grand foyer and sweeping staircase right out of the elevator, Lucy's apartment has become more like a wing than a separate unit, but I don't mind as long as it doesn't make her feel like the hired help.  To that end, we have moved her into a larger apartment on the 36th floor, giving her about a thousand more square feet.

Cain and I head to our separate showers.  In my room, I find that Lucy has replaced the old lilies with fresh ones, and as I turn on the steam feature and relax in the comforts of home, my mind wanders back to the hangar and what Cain did to me in the cockpit of that airplane.

 

The Evening of October 11

 

"Can I get you something to drink, Sir?" I had asked the pilot, biting my lip and feeling shy about the role playing game I had initiated.

"I'm not thirsty," Cain had said.

"Can I get you something to eat?"

"I'm not hungry."

"Surely there must be something I can get you," I say with a sultry tone, looking down on him.

"You could get me...off," he says, and though we laugh at ourselves, the mood quickly turns when I swivel his seat sideways and begin to kneel.

"Wait," he says, reaching for the buttons on my blouse.  He undoes them down to the skirt, exposing my tits as they spill out of a black push-up bra.  "Much better." 

On my knees before him, I start working through his pants as his cock strains against his zipper, opening my mouth wide over his bulge, breathing hot air through the fabric before I prod him to stand so I can get his pants off.  Wearing nothing but his shirt, he sits back down and places the pilot's hat on my head.  I take his cock loosely in hand, slowly extending my tongue to the tip, torturing him with such a light touch he can barely feel it, but Cain is impatient.  He puts his hands on my head, and through the hat, I feel him urging me to give more.  I let him control me, pushing me to nearly swallow his cock before letting me come back up to the tip, over and over.

"Oh, God, Evan," he murmurs through gritted teeth, fucking my mouth, his cock tensing and tightening until he stops me with an anguished groan.

He lures me to my feet and pulls me toward him to bite my nipples as they peek out of the bra, sending jolt after jolt of electricity to my clit.  Then he takes off my shirt and spins me around, pulling me back, his ass off the edge so I can straddle him in the captain's chair like I wanted when I started this game.  He runs his hands down the front of me, grabbing my tits and toying with my navel ring before settling between my legs, where feeling him touch me with no boundaries is heavenly.

His cock standing between my legs outside my panties, as Cain's hands explore, I reach down, stroking it, pressing it hard against my clit, aching to feel it inside me.  I'm so wet that the fabric slides with his cock, feeding the burning need inside me, but just when I think he's about to fuck me, he pushes me forward, bending me over to rest my hands on the copilot's chair.  He hikes my skirt up to my waist and spreads my legs as he kneels behind and beneath me, then I feel his glorious tongue make the first, tentative traces around my clit.

"Oh, fuck," I exhale, my legs lightly trembling as he teases me, his mouth covering me, and though the pressure is intense, the movements of his tongue are glacial.  I hear myself moaning as I lean forward, bending over as far as I can, then he slides his tongue inside me, probing me, increasing his reach until I'm convinced he could make me come inside by this alone if he wanted.  But he has other plans.

Suddenly Cain stands up and thrusts his cock deep inside, pulling back and ramming into me again and again.  He's rough, his cock ruthless, and when he makes me come, he shoves me forward, my face pressed against the leather seat as he digs his fingernails into me, clawing me neck to ass.

"Oh, God!  Cain!" I cry, and as I feel myself clenching and throbbing around his cock, he pulls me upright by my hair, holding me there through the aftershocks.

When he withdraws, he walks around me, his eyes predatory, his posture so intimidating I find myself stepping backwards.  Then he slips between the copilot's chair and me, facing me, and as I look up at him, tall and godlike, so powerful and perfect that when he leans over me and presses his lips against my ear, the sensation of his breath at my neck sends gooseflesh rolling down my spine.

"Sit down," he commands, pushing me into the captain's chair and pulling my ass off the end to spread my legs wide.  He drops to his knees, looking me in the eye as he begins his onslaught, devouring me, his beautiful face buried as his exquisite tongue plays my clit like an orchestral master until, in a harmony of shamelessness and ecstasy, he guides me to a magnificent end.  Piercing the silence of the plane with rapturous screams, I convulse against him as he presses into me, pushing me through the slight ache to another orgasm, then another until he has claimed every bit of pleasure I have within me in this series of small miracles, and languid, I slide down into his lap, his cock beneath me, steely and ravenous.

"You're perfect, Evan," he whispers.  "Your tits are perfect.  Your pussy is perfect."  As he speaks, he clutches my hips, lifting and slamming me down onto his cock until his name echoes through the empty plane once more.  As I lose my rhythm, falling apart all around him, he keeps his hold on me, fucking me until he pulls me down one final time so hard I feel a delicious flash of pain just before he explodes hot and wet inside me.

"Fuck, Evan!  Oh, Fuck!" he groans, his teeth gnashing at my neck, his every muscle tensed, and as he gradually relaxes the death grip on my hips, he whispers my praises into the air.

"You're the mold, baby," he breathes as we meld into one on the floor.  "God, you're the mold."

 

October 12, Before Dawn

 

I get out of the shower, but with the hangar still on my mind, all I can think about is Cain's cock. I leave my closet hoping he feels the same, and he never disappoints.  I find him in the bedroom when I enter dressed in a long, satin gown, which he promptly puts on the floor, and we make love.  Everything feels so perfect and right with the world, and when he wraps his arms around me afterward, I fall into a restful sleep and dream pleasant dreams.

 

October 12, Late Morning 

 

I wake up energized.  It's Saturday, and while Cain is meeting Caleb to play racquetball, Paige is due in about an hour so we can get started on the dungeon.  Expecting to have the apartment to myself, I head to the kitchen to grab breakfast without even brushing my hair, but to my surprise, I find Cain sitting at the dining room table still in his pajama bottoms, looking like he hasn't slept.  Though my first inclination is to go straight to him to ask what's wrong, when he sees me, he turns away, putting me instantly on the defense.

"Cain?" I ask, my voice cracking, stopped in my tracks by his icy vibe.

"We need to talk," he says without looking at me.  The words hit like punch, knocking the wind out of me, and I know instinctively that something is very wrong. I feel it so strongly that closing the distance between us feels like walking in sand.  At the table side, I stand over him, choosing the high ground as every cell in my body feels what's coming.  It's what I've been expecting since the day we met.

"Evan, I don't know how to say this..." he begins.

Oh, God!  Here it comes. 
I steel myself.

"I feel like things are...moving too fast," he says.

"What are you saying?" I ask as I feel myself go numb all over.

"I think we need to take a break.  I need to sort some things out." 

"Have you met someone else you want to fuck?" I ask meekly.

"No, Evan, it's nothing like that.  I love you.  I just need...some time."  He still won't look me in the eye.

"How much time?"

"I don't know.  A couple of weeks?  A month?"  Then he falls silent for a long moment, during which my mind relives our entire relationship.  I think about the intimacy and the I love you's, then I think about the tears...and my scars...my cutting.  How can he be doing this on the heels of what I've shared with him so recently?  Suddenly I feel ugly inside, unworthy and unclean.

"Have you met someone you want to get to know better?" I ask, my heart begging him to stop this.

"No.  It's just a break...just to get my head straight."  He looks up at me with the strangest eyes.  They seem out of focus, looking not at me but through me, and I lose my patience.  If he's going to throw me away, he needs to get it the fuck over with.

"Fucking coward!" I snap.  "You don't have the balls to tell me the truth."

"I am telling you the truth.  All I need is a break.  I don't want to lose you."

"And I'm supposed to just go home, sit around, and wait for you to be ready to take me back?  Go fuck yourself, Cain."

"Evan, I'm sorry..."

"You're sorry?  Is that supposed to make it okay for you to break every promise you ever made to me?" I hiss at him, galvanizing my anger as my defenses kick in, giving me all of the power in the world to control the impending breakdown until I can get the fuck out of here.  "I still have the bruises on my ass to remind me of how well you took it when you thought I might leave you, but I guess I don't get to tie you to a bed and beat you until you change your mind.  You can go straight to hell, Cain Ballantyne.  Just say the fucking words and be done with it!" 

"Is that what you want?" he demands, angry as he stands up to face me.  "You want to make me say that I don't love you anymore?  That I don't want you anymore?  That there's someone else?" 

"You can't have it both ways!" I spit.

"Okay."

"Okay?" I ask, confused, as he sits back down and stares into the distance.

"I tried to be what you wanted, Evan, but I can't.  I am what you thought I was in the beginning, and I haven't changed.  I'm sorry."  His words are stiff and his actions cold as he reaches for my hand.  I recoil, and though he looks wounded for it, his vile words keep spewing forth.  "I want you to keep the Jaguar, and I'll have Lucy bring all of your things to your house.  I've paid your rent for the next year and put a sizable deposit in your checking account to make up for what you lost by quitting your job.  If there's anything you need..."

"I'll work as a gutter whore before I ask you for anything.  I don't want your fucking car, I don't want your fucking gifts, and I don't want your fucking money."  I speak low and deliberately, my jaw set.  I will not let him see how much he's hurting me inside, but he knows.  He has to know.

"Baby..."  He reaches for me again, but I step back.

"Don't you touch me.  Don't you ever touch me again."  I stalk out of the room and grab my cell phone from the charger in his office to call Lucy.  I would be more comfortable having Nicole come to take me home, but I don't want to have to wait or walk out of the front of the building.  I want to take the elevator to the parking garage and hide in the back of the limo.  Lucy says she'll be waiting for me in the foyer whenever I'm ready, and I realize that I'm almost ready now because there's nothing here that's mine.  I walk into the closet one last time to get the riding crop as memories of Cain over the past few weeks invade my mind.

"I will always defend you...and protect you...and take care of you..." 

"Losing you would destroy me."
 

"When I thought you were leaving me, I didn't even want my next breath."

His words torment me as I struggle with the riding crop, trying to break it, but it's well-made and unyielding, taking all of my effort just to bend it slightly.

"You could never disappoint me."

"You
are
my worlds."

"You're the mold."

And you, Cain Ballantyne, are a filthy, fucking liar! 
My mind rages as I go to the bedroom and lay the damaged symbol of our union on Cain's pillow.  Now it's time to wrap this the fuck up and get out of here.

"I want my car back," I demand loudly as I walk back down the hall to the dining room.

"What?" 

"No more lies, Cain!  I know you stole my fucking car, and I want it back."

"I don't have your car, Evan."

"Fine!  I have savings.  I'll buy a new one, but I'm not keeping your goddamned Jaguar."

"Don't waste your savings.  I'll have your car brought to you," Cain says, defeated.

I knew it!
  I think, furious that he deceived me even though I know his heart was in the right place.  He
wanted me to have the Jaguar when all I could afford was an old piece of junk.  I would have been flattered that he stole my car if I had known for sure before he decided that today would be a good day to rip my heart out.  Now it just hurts to know that he kept it, like he knew it would end between us someday, and he could send me and my shitty car back to my shitty life.

"You son-of-a-bitch!" I growl as I turn my purse upside down, dumping the contents on the table.  I collect my wallet, Daddy's locket, and the keys to my house in La Mesa.  Along with my cell phone, these items are all I own here.

"Don't be so dramatic, Evan.  Take your purse.  Please."

Wrong thing to say, dick!
Now I have to leave
everything
that isn't mine.  I throw off my robe and yank down my panties because not a damn stitch in this place belongs to me, and leaving the clothes in a pile on the floor in front of him, I pick up my meager possessions and stalk out the door, slamming it loudly.  When I find myself standing in the new grand foyer naked, I don't even have it in me to care.  Thank God for Lucy.  She immediately goes into protector mode, taking off her long, black trench coat and wrapping it around me.

 

 

"I'm so sorry, Evan," Lucy whispers as she guides me into the elevator.  Though the pain is searing beyond anything I've ever experienced, I remain stoic.  I don't want her to be able to report back to Cain that I cried.  I don't even want Nicole to see me cry over this.  I want to get home, lock my bedroom door behind me, and not have to see another living soul until this pain is a distant memory.

In the parking garage, Lucy goes to the lockbox and gets a key.  We're taking a car I've never been in before.  It's some kind of two-seater, but I don't know or care about the make or model.  It's fast, and it doesn't remind me of Cain.  As I stare blankly ahead, Lucy rushes through the city streets and pulls onto the 94 East to La Mesa.  Late Saturday morning, the road is vacant, much like my future as all I can see ahead of me is an eternity of mourning, not for Cain but for the man I thought he was.

When we get to my house and find that the Jaguar isn't parked out front, I'm relieved that Nicole isn't home.  Lucy hurries around to my side and helps me out of the car, practically holding me up as she walks me to the door.

"I don't think you should be alone right now, Evan.  I can stay," she offers.

"Thanks, but I want to be alone."

"Promise me you'll call if you need anything, anything at all." 

"I will, Lucy, and thank you...for everything," I say, fighting the urge to cry
.  Just a few more seconds
, I tell myself. 
Then you can let it all out.
  Lucy smiles, squeezes my hand, and turns to leave, but she stops suddenly, swinging back around to face me.

"Oh, Evan," she breathes the words in a loud exhale as she throws her arms around me, hugging me tightly.  For two fucked up people who have a history of difficulty expressing affection openly, it's an overwhelming moment, and in her embrace, I lose the battle, the tears rolling down my face.

"I don't know what happened today, but I know Cain loves you," she whispers.  It makes the tears fall harder, and though I didn't want her to see me like this at all, when we finally pull away from each other, Lucy is crying just as hard as I am.  We laugh at ourselves through the tears.

"Take care of yourself, Evan," she says as she turns and heads back to the car to leave me to my misery.  My first instinct is to tell her to take care of Cain, but then I remember that Cain can go fuck himself.

I unlock the door and enter the code for the new alarm system, thankful I remember the numbers Nicole picked since this is the first time I've ever disarmed it, then I reset it, not wanting her to know I'm here when she comes home.  I lock myself in my bedroom and take off Lucy's coat, but I don't even have the energy to dress myself. Naked, I slide into my bed and fall apart.

I hate you, Cain Ballantyne!
 
More than I have hated anyone or anything in my entire life, I hate you!  My every instinct told me to run screaming from you, but you just couldn't walk away from the challenge, could you?
  Now here I sit...right back where I started, only worse for it because now I know what it feels like to have everything and lose it all.

I curl up under the covers, grabbing a pillow to cry into.  It smells like Cain.  What used to be the scent of heaven has become the stench of my private hell, and nothing - not even my scars or the abuse that drove me to make them - has ever hurt like this.

Fuck.  Me.

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